Passion in the Infirmary
by Doreiku
Summary: When Watari becomes suicidal and severely injured, who is the doctor caring for him? None other than the infamous Muraki. How will Watari feel about this? Succumb to his desires, or push Muraki away...
1. Kyuumeisentaa Nyuutaiin: The ER

**Disclaimer:** _I DO NOT OWN YAMI NO MATSUEI!! I WISH!! OH, MY HYNE, DO I WISH!!!_

**-**if people are wondering what the hell "Hyne" is... it isn't 'hynee' but 'hyne' as in the god that Irvine in FF8 always swore to...- xp I'm a geek, I love it.

**Author note**: Well, here is something you rarely see... Personally, I think it's the best couple ever!! I love it!!! I wrote this here thing for a friend- Ashwee-sama- She has the inside scoop... But, whoever said we're dealing with icecream?? Pretty much, please review... Ashwee-sama didn't edit my work so I have no clue if my editing was right or not xp

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Watari cursed himself, wishing with every fiber of his being that he hadn't messed up. He wasn't supposed to be here. Wasn't supposed to be in the emergency room, about to have a surgery that he hoped wouldn't be successful. They wanted him to live- he wanted to disappear- to die. His extended life wasn't worth it, being dedicated to science, his only friend. Though, this friend did not like him apparently, as he often thought, being killed by this so called "friend", scrutinized and criticized over it. No one knew that he took everything to personally. 

Doctors ran next to the moving stretcher, their voices muted, only facial expressions showing how frightened they were of the smoking body. The fact that he could see them- despite the blurriness of the forms- was not acceptable in his nearly unconscious mind; he had wanted to be inoperable by this stage. Lights flashed as his mind chose whether or not to shut down or strive to continue. As he was being set up on the operating table, a mask being placed upon his face, he caught a glimpse of what he thought was an angel. A white and silver angel smiling down at him. And then black.

"Watari? Are you all right now? Hey! I think he's waking up!!" Tsuzuki's voice rang clearly through the room, causing Tatsumi to scold him about being loud. Hisoka didn't say anything to comfort Tsuzuki when he turned around nearly crying. After assuring that what Tsuzuki said was true- for he had said the same thing nearly five times by now, believing that Watari was coming to every time he moved they gathered around their friend's bed.

"W…W-where am I?" Watari asked with a frail voice.

"You are in a hospital, Watari-san." Tatsumi said quietly, noticing that Watari seemed to be a bit hesitant to open his eyes. The world was calling him, but he was denying the right to be there. Finally, Watari looked around, his eyes barely opening to see Tatsumi, Tsuzuki, Hisoka, and the Gushoshin twins.

"Wow, I never expected you to screw up this badly…" Tsuzuki commented after moving the covers and looking at the scientist's body nosily. Tatsumi slapped his hand and told him to leave Watari alone.

"Indeed, to have nearly the same thing happen to you twice… I thought that you learned the first time. The hospital bill is coming out of your paycheck for being negligent." Tatsumi was still a tightwad in the end.

"Thank you for you hospitality, Tatsumi…" he replied, weakly attempting a smile. He wanted to disappear into the black abyss that claimed him, and he was hiding it rather well. "Watari, don't listen to him! He's being mean today!! Don't worry, I can help pay!" Tsuzuki offered, though everyone knew he didn't make enough money to actually cover the smallest portion of the expenses. He still owed the Ministry of Hades for the library he decimated.

"No. This whole mess is making our district hit bottom. Thanks to you, we now have to wipe the memories of the police, nurses, and everyone else that saw you last night." Tatsumi explained angrily. The doctor entered looking down at his clipboard, ignoring the discussion going on. When he finally looked up a sadistic smile grew on his face. Despite his "happiness" he still had a job to fulfill. "Watari Yutake is suffering from extreme burns to his entire body- although shows no signs whatsoever of actually "suffering" from them. His left leg is broken, and from what we know, he should be dead." Everyone looked at the doctor, not noticing him there before. A horrid silence fell upon the room, everyone looking at each other in shock. How could this have happen?

He was quite tall, despite this he wore his doctor's white uniform down to the floor, glasses sat agedly on the bridge of his nose, with a hoary real and glass eye meeting the gaze of Tsuzuki. Silver hair added to the savior-like appearance in which he used to the fullest extent. Muraki. Like the devil. Muraki. Rapist. Murderer. Obsessed maniac. "Hello, Mr. Tsuzuki." he said with the same sadistic smile.  
"T-Tatsumi!! H-how…???" Tsuzuki was utterly confused of how this could have happened. He shouldn't have been there. Muraki was supposed to be dead, yet here he was in front of them, in control of his friend's life. "M-Muraki."

"I'm very sorry for having to cut our meeting short, but the patient has to rest." he said sadly, having his prey leave him was depressing.

"Of course, you can come visit again at visiting hours tomorrow; I'll be waiting"

Muraki shooed them out of the room. They hesitated, but when Muraki grabbed Tsuzuki's back side caressingly he was the first out- gladly the first out. Exiting the hospital, Hisoka looked sick, disgusted. Tatsumi supposed it was seeing Muraki- the person that raped and killed him. However, Tsuzuki saw it a different way, "Don't worry 'Soka… Watari will be okay…" No one believed him, even himself.

"Well, Watari Yutake, you have a wonderful set of friends. Absolutely magnificent." Muraki smiled once more expecting a frightened answer, though none came. The patient was looking out the window expectantly- gloomily. He was thinking about how stupid he was. Of course, the accident was a bi-product of being utterly drunk, but to think that he could die was being ignorant. It was completely impossible. Now he was just a burden to everyone. He would heal, he should have known that. The fact that he had never been severely injured in his shinigami form served as knowledge that would have been useful when trying to destroy it.

Muraki impatiently stood at the bedside, expecting some sort of recognition. Receiving none, he took the time to study the alluring scientist. Watari's long blonde hair shrouded his shoulders and complimented the femininity of his lithe, yet not in the least graceful, body. A look of wanting painted his face to be needy. His pale body, in comparison of Tsuzuki's, was far beyond any stature known to Muraki. Watari's lips curved into a half pout, thinking of the day when he would return to work- everyone either pitying him or counting on him for some miracle only science could do.

Going over the angel-like structure once more, Muraki decided he needed this scientist. His beauty was Tsuzuki twofold, if not more. This need was beyond anything Tsuzuki cursed him with- this need was genuine and powerful. However, for some reason he craved the blonde to go along willingly; it would only be a one-time moment if he raped him like he did the others. "I heard the older man, I believe his name was Tatsumi, speaking of a situation like this. This has happened before?" Muraki asked, this time waiting patiently for him to respond.

Watari turned around feigning to be coming out of a daydream, covering his self-hate with his usual cheery smile. "Hm? Oh, yes, I do seem to recall something like this happening before. I suppose I should've learned from the first time"

Muraki eyed him skeptically, "You don't seem to be afraid that I'm your doctor…" Watari contemplated this, wondering why exactly he felt no fear. He decided that it was because he knew the worse cruelty Muraki could do to him was rape him- and honestly, he thought that idea was rather inviting. The doctor was good looking to say the least, in his opinion, and he had actually admired him for quite some time. Muraki dedicated his life to find the ultimate form. He had given his life up for this research of science- so they had relatively a lot in common. Watari was jealous of Tsuzuki for having Muraki obsessed with him- though that was only when he was truly depressed and sought comfort from alcohol. He was in slipping into one of those moods.

"I'm not… You're on shift, thus you can't do anything without being fired." he responded after thoroughly examining his thoughts on the subject. Muraki stepped closer so he was against the bed, and lowered his hand to caress Watari's cheek.

"So, you're not frightened even if I do this?" he asked rubbing his thumb down his face. Watari simply shook his head, not in the least effected. Muraki brushed his thumb across the blonde's lower lip wanting to extract some sort of response. He thought for a second that maybe the scientist lost sense of touch from the burns, thus why he was so stubborn. But, that thought went away as he let his hand travel down, under the patient's blankets and hospital gown, onto his taught chest, sending a fit of shivers down Watari's back. Enjoying the reaction, Muraki continued to caress his chest, traveling lower with every movement. He smirked seeing Watari squirm from his touch, although not as satisfied as he would be to hear his name being screamed like bloody murder. For now, he was content with this much power, aching for more, but only allowing himself what he deserved. Or maybe he was changing into a softhearted person? Not very likely.

Watari was in shock, not expecting Muraki to do this to him and it surprised him even more that he would dare to do it in a working environment. A small moan of disappointment escaped his lips as he felt the hand work its way back down and out of his gown and blankets. Muraki looked annoyed and it took several seconds for Watari to hear the sound of a pager going off. The doctor took the device from his pocket and looked at it agitatedly. He sighed, "Sadly, I have to leave… There's a meeting I am required to attend…" with that he walked out of the room clutching the pager angrily. His playtime had been interrupted. Someone had to pay for it.

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**Author note 2: **Please review... Not many people like this couple... so, out of respect for someone with no life that would create this... REVIEW!!! 


	2. Jisatsumisui: Attempted Suicide

**Disclaimer: **I DO NOT OWN YAMI NO MATSUEI!! FOR I AM DIRT POOR... damn... so many possibilities...

**Author's** **Note**: Thank you for everyone that reviewed. I hope more will next time!! But, thankies...

**PuppetofDreams**: Why, yes indeed, you are the first one and in celebration you will get a one year supplies of Mr.Clean products... Howevery, I am not liable for any of the products not making it to you :) so, pretty much, you're not getting them... I'm sorry.. :)

**AnaDragon**: I fell in love with the couple when my friend and I were discussing them... Absolutely drool worthy... -cough- ... IT'S SO PRETTY!!! I LOVE MURAKI AND WATARI!!!

**AuraBlackWolf**: OOOOH!! I WILL COMPLETELY CHECK OUT YOU FIC!! Sadly, not many people DO appreciate the beauty of this relationship... I on the otherhand, completely ADORE it!! ... They should get it on... nn

**jewls**: Why thankies!! I think that chapie two is better than the first one... it gets very... upclose and personal... :)

**Morality**: They do have a lot in common! I love it, it's just so easy to manipulate... hehehehe...

**EvilAngelofHeavenandHell** : YOU HAVE TO PUT YOUR FIC ON FANFICTION!!! I WILL READ AND READ AND REVIEW AND DROOL!!!! hehehe...

**Sueona**: Yes, well, the direction in which these two characters travel is a very steamy one... hehehe...

**Goofy** **Edward**: Thank you for saying I write well!! You don't know how special it means to me! nn

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Doctor Muraki checked his patient's stats, moving from heart rate to blood pressure in an orderly manner. He wanted to be done with this solemn patient quickly- the real prize only that much closer- for Watari Yutaka was to be examined next. Watari was just waking up as the doctor walked in to perform the daily routine. Writing on his clipboard, Muraki updated the vital statuses and such, hurriedly once more- wanting to do one last check. 

Watari instantly jolted up once noticing that the doctor had resumed what they were doing days before- placing his hand up the patient's gown, slowly descending. Muraki did not speak, only conveying his emotions in that ever-idiosyncratic smirk. Watari choked, expecting Muraki to return upwards to his tensing chest, but the man continued on into the lower naked region- for the gown included being naked underneath, just like every other hospital uniform. The boldness of the act made Watari excited, mentally and physically. Implementing in this type of transgression was prohibited by society, but it proved to be some kind of a relief in his mind- a gap in his world from others.

Muraki, not in the least tentative, gripped Watari, causing a loud moan to arise from his patient. He instantly covered the patient's mouth with his own, sticking his tongue into the stanch wielder, finding all, if any, motives for their actions. "No, no, no… We don't wish other's to hear…" Muraki whispered seductively into Watari's ear, removing his hand from Yutaka, casting all covers off his recipient. Having his awakened arousal jut out so suddenly, triggered the scientist to hold his breath in order not to give an ear-piercing scream of complete incredulity and ecstasy. Muraki quickly put his mouth to the other man's in case of the muffled scream's ominous release.

While distracting Watari, Muraki's hand slipped down to the unveiled flesh of importance. He stroked him lambently, Watari's eyes shooting open immediately, though not making any protesting sounds or actions to further demonstrate his surprise. Muraki licked his face whilst his hand grasped him harder, and started to move accordingly. His face wet from the doctor's tongue and the fresh buildup of sweat, Watari began showering Muraki with praises nearly above a whisper. The doctor liked the reaction, craved more of it, although also wanted Watari to beg like he sought nothing else in the world. "Hmm… It seems like you enjoy this…" he said, moving his hand swiftly to illustrate his meaning. Watari only made small whimpers of submission, wishing that the doctor would hurry his movements. However, the platinum blond refused to even consider modifying his current pace. He enjoyed the liquid dripping off of his hand, a liquid that didn't have its usual bloody tint that it would have had if it were any other person- it was pure and like no other. The first snowfall of the millennium.

The hand continued as Tsuzuki, fully clad in a pink bear costume, walked in looking rather surprised, with Hisoka following promptly behind. They quickly resumed what they were doing; not bothering to question what Muraki was doing to their friend. Tsuzuki stood at the head of the bed and began to silently strip, Hisoka helping with his shirt as if it were any normal day. Tsuzuki now completely naked, moved to Hisoka to get him unclothed as well, however Hisoka refused his help and turned around to undress in the most privacy he was bound to receive- for being located in a hospital room with three other men finding seclusion is definitely a gift. It was all very surreal. Witnessing something so sinful converted into gratification for his body and soul. After Hisoka was done he faced Watari, "This is to help you get better."

Hisoka pushed Tsuzuki onto the chair against the wall, quickly straddling him, eagerly kissing and tonguing his way through the uncertainties. He rubbed himself against Tsuzuki's skin, observing as his friend gladly obliged. Watari was in a state of utter amazement. The combining stimulation of Muraki touching him and watching his best friends make-out nakedly, made him go over the edge. As he leapt from cliff, he saw Tatsumi as the one fondling him. It was truly a dream come true.

"T-Tatsumi-san… W-wh…" he began, only to notice Tsuzuki was beside him petting his forehead. He had been sweating during this fantasy, one of the most arousing ones in his life, and among the first real fantasies he possessed. Watari was completely lost, wondering how much of it was real and fictitious- when he saw Hisoka was absent and only Tsuzuki and Tatsumi were there, he decided that it all must have been a dream. Although, he somewhat resented that inference.

Tatsumi was flushed, sitting in the seat across the bed- where the dream-Tsuzuki and Hisoka were having sexual interactions. Obviously both had heard him moaning- that part wasn't a dream after all; he had been expressing his dream's orgasm in real time- creating a cataclysmic howl, there were no other coherent words to define such a noise. How very awkward. "Wow, that must've been one dream! What was I doing?" Tsuzuki asked, not in the least troubled by this dream that left his friend with his own very hard friend. The blankets the hospital provided allowed this specific detail to be left out from the others' gaze, though they could have guessed that it was there due to Watari maladroitly fixing his position.

"H-How long have you been here?" he asked, mortified of his buddy- and his colleague's question.

"Long enough to know that you have erotic dreams about the both of us. Including Muraki." answered Tatsumi quietly, also embarrassed, showing no recognition of such feelings, however. Either that or he was unable of processing them correctly for he was so gauche that it affected everything in his mind.

"Speaking of the devil…" commented Tsuzuki as Muraki walked in, dressed in his doctor garb.

"Why, hello there." Muraki said as he looked at the ever-familiar clipboard. He was aware that something had just happened, the smell of tension and apprehension coated the air lusciously. On the clipboard he wrote a memo to watch the surveillance tape. The event had of been a compelling one. "How are you today, Watari?"

He was ignoring Tsuzuki; wanting to show that he was through with him- found a new, better excitement in his life. "I have to check the patient now, you can return at 10 o'clock tomorrow morning. He may, perhaps, be able to return then." Tatsumi stood up and prepared to walk out of the room, watching silently as Tsuzuki looked confusedly at Muraki. He was focusing all of his attention on this patient- his prey. Tsuzuki knew this- knew the danger that Watari was facing. "Watari… Good luck…" he hoped underneath his breath, feeling that the scientist would need it, and left with Tatsumi following promptly, not wishing to experience what was bound to happen if he refused to leave once more. The doctor liked to play grab-ass a lot.

"Can you sit up?" Muraki asked, watching as his patient sat up effortlessly. The damage was gone, completely restored to his usual shinigami form. But, he thought angrily, of course I'm all right; I am a shinigami after all… "I am going to perform a series of tests. If you deem it is unnecessary, inform me. Do you understand?"

Watari nodded, though not exactly understanding it at all. Why would some be "unnecessary"?

First, the doctor began rubbing his shoulders, looking for the previous abrasions. Finding that there were no signs of any injuries, whatsoever, he continued lower, inspecting Watari's ribs. His touch was cold which only added to the stimulation Muraki provided for Watari, handling him being the foremost role. The doctor pressed his fingers intently against his lower rib, causing the patient to whimper slightly with a childish smile. That had always been his ticklish spot. Muraki reminded himself to remember that spot for later.

Traveling down, he checked his legs for appropriate reflexes. Muraki tapped his knuckle on the other's kneecap; triggering nothing in return- this puzzled him in more than one way. He placed his hand on the knee and tapped again. Nothing. It didn't occur to him that it might have been that he wasn't using proper equipment because he often did check ups in this fashion. He continued the medical, examining his right leg, something still puzzled him. "Is there something wrong?" Watari asked looking down at his knee, noticing Muraki's change of face.

"No. Nothing. In fact, everything is fine." Muraki responded as he slowly slid his hand up Watari's leg, going up to his inner thigh and lambently stroking the flesh. The scientist swallowed several pleasurable noises, all which would have resulted in unwanted attention from employees and possibly other patients. "Mmm… Watari… You have no idea how much I crave this body of yours… The spirit… Strengths… Weaknesses… Everything." Muraki seductively licked the startled patient's ear, whilst purposefully neglecting the somewhat aroused member- wanting him to plead for such actions.

Watari was about to release a moan of approval when suddenly; it hit him like a spiked mallet. Muraki was a rapist. A murderer. Someone who slaughtered his friend- a young colleague that looked to him as if he were his brother. He had latched onto the alluring bait. A snare with a poisonous deception that many had fell for before him. He felt foolish. "S-stop." Watari's voice cracked- denying his body's desires. However, Muraki paid no attention to this plea; he did expect a different kind of praise, though. "D-Doctor! Please, stop it!" he demanded definitively, also removing the doctor's hand from near satisfaction to enforce his order. He couldn't believe that he fell for someone so… sinful… yet so… seamless.

Muraki was speechless. He was convinced that he would have at least aroused an ardent scream. However, his plan was ruined once more. He stared into Watari's golden eyes incredulously, deciphering the code hidden in them. "Fair enough… You term the procedure unnecessary, we will move on."

Still, there was no kind of movement, thus it continued to perplex him. "May I ask you to spread your legs?" Muraki asked, hand up to his chin thoughtfully. Watari stared blankly at the doctor. He had just told him 'no', didn't he?

"Why? I assure you there's nothing wrong with my legs…" Watari stated, trying to avoid such intimate contact, which might end up with him doing who knows what with the doctor.

"There seems to be no response from your right leg. It is rather strange. The fact that you can survive being scorched is another amazing feat that you possess."

"People have always said I was weird." Watari laughed. He looked down at his legs and decided to follow the doctor's orders- nothing too bad could happen…

Muraki sighed with amazement at the sight. Other than Watari's manhood, no longer triumphant as it previously was, showing from the little section of cloth covering it, there were deep maroon scars in Watari's inner thighs. Muraki recognized such wounds; these self inflicted wounds were meant to be fatal, cutting the major vein located close to the genital area more than a dozen several times. A knife had definitely been used, either that or a scalpel- for the lesions were precise and accurately calculated. Watari had attempted to kill himself. But when? There were old scars, but new, deeper scars overlapped them.

Muraki glanced at Watari questioningly. "What have you been doing here?" he asked almost playfully.

"Oh, that… Um… It was an experiment gone wrong." he smiled, "There was a mistake in the formula. I still haven't fixed the flaw." Watari hoped that his explanation would shift their conversation, though all hopes failed.

"You attempted to kill yourself numerous times I see… Why would a shinigami as yourself wish to die?" Muraki asked in a whisper, though not trying to be seductive… this time. He contemplated in his mind why the scars hadn't been undetected until now, not even by his superiors. Then it occurred to him that Watari was so badly burnt that they wouldn't have known if an arm was a leg and if a leg was an arm if Watari's head had not been attached to the charred body.

Watari thought about Muraki's words. Why did he want to kill himself? Science, he thought, it's all for science. Though, how it could be for science was not apparent to him. All he knew was that it was science either way; he wanted- needed- to impugn it on science. Every time he severed his thigh, something in his brain would immediately believe that it was responsible just by how it had betrayed him. He was alone, lonely; the fact that he was a failed scientist served as a greater influence. Tatsumi, another cause, rejected his feelings on several occasions. He refused to feel the same "infatuation", as he called it, for Watari. "Don't mix business with pleasure" Tatsumi replied when Watari confronted him. Though, Watari presumed it was another way of Tatsumi being a tightwad. 003 had even turned him down when he was completely drunk and possibly even intoxicated with some sort of drug the bartender slipped in his drink to get him to leave. Even people he paid wanted him gone. His creations were his only friends, no other human, shinigami, or creature held the same interests, thus his only contact with such people was either at work or at the bar, drowning in that epic, somber sepulcher which only provided room enough for one person. Proving that he was destined to be alone.

Muraki trailed a slim finger down one of the faded scars, feeling the pulse increase, "I will have to report this. Expect to be staying here longer than a few nights." He began walking away to inform his superiors.

"Wait! Muraki, please don't inform anyone of my… abrasions… It's my encumbrance, not anyone else's. I'll do anything, Muraki… Just promise you won't expose this…" Watari pleaded. The doctor turned around with a devilish smirk. Watari noticed this expression, the expression he used when something was going right for him, which usually meant something bad was bound to happen to the person on the receiving end. Watari didn't care what his natural defenses told him, it was imperative that what was discovered never left the room.

"Anything…?" he returned to the spot between Watari's legs and groped the man's thigh desperately- no not desperately but agitatedly, and also took hold of his jaw sternly. "Mr.Watari, I doubt you would give yourself to me right now. Don't offer such thought-provoking things if you do not intend to fulfill them." he growled angered.

Watari pondered for a moment. Was he really prepared for something so cosmic? Making love with the man who raped your friend, a friend that was merely a boy. To even suggest such a concordat disturbed Watari greatly, though the only reason for that feeling was because inside he fought the urge to agree to any terms the doctor proposed. "Maybe not. Anything sexual is off limits…"

"Then there's no use for you."

"F-fine!! Just don't tell Tatsumi…" he implored, knowing what kind of response Tatsumi would give if he was told that his friend was suicidal and having relations with a man the department was trying to dispose of. He would most likely call him an idiot and dock his salary. The science department already received less money than any other sector.

Muraki's smile transformed into a scowl, noting the use of another man's name, "Tatsumi… The treasurer?" his scowl was morphing from anger, "… I don't need anything in return. I won't tell, but I refuse to lie. I will have to detain you here, for observation purposes. If you show any signs of depression you will be apprehended in a mental institution."

"Thank you…" Watari managed a dreadful smile, all intention on a smile to show the happy and sad side of him. He didn't want to stay here. He did want to stay here. With Muraki. Without Muraki. His mind couldn't choose. Muraki was the only person that made him feel at ease, despite his past. Everything happens for a reason, Watari thought, maybe this time I will gain a companion…

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**Authors note two: **

mmm... Hot and spicy... Just the way meesa likies... hehehe... I'm a major perv... I'm horrible!!!

**PLEASE REVIEW!! I'M STARVING... HUNGO!!!**


	3. Netami : Jealousy

Disclaimer: I resent the fact that I do not own Yami no Matsuei, but life sucks.

Warning: Male on Male content... The goodness of life

A/N: I'm sorry I didn't update for so long, but I have _many _reasons why... I don't want to be a burden so read and enjoy.

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"Can he come home yet?" Tsuzuki asked the secretary impatiently. She repeated that Dr. Muraki would have to decide. This proved to upset the puppy-eyed shinigami so much he almost began to cry. Of course, this was just a ploy to get into Watari's room. However, as he looked up-teary eyed and pouting professionally- he observed the secretary disregarding him for the amity of the computer before her. He turned around, looking at Tatsumi with the same look. The treasurer also dismissed him with a side-glance; escaping the eyes he knew he might give in to; better leave no chances for that. Hisoka sighed edgily next to him. They had been trying to gain access to the scientist's room for about a half an hour. The "nice little secretary" was an annoying, insignificant cur, and had been completely boorish the entire time they had been there. Morning people should work morning shifts, not grumpy teenagers that wish to go back to sleep once the alarm clock rings. 

Suddenly, as Tsuzuki turned back to face this impudent cretin, something was blocking his view. He thought it was rude to cut someone off like that, but then he noticed, after half a second, that it was none other than his friend's doctor. Dr. Muraki. He nearly jumped from the startling appearance of this person, whom didn't have the best record in the world for being particularly nice, especially since he was a former stalker and present murderer. Hisoka tensed whilst staring down the doctor; every time he saw him it only proved to be more stressful.

"If I could have a moment with you, gentlemen, in my office, please." Muraki said, waiting for the men to stand and follow him down the hall. He led them into the most austere room ever known or seen by either of the shinigami, taking a seat behind a desk. And they thought that Tatsumi's office was reserved. Muraki's office was completely bare. The only sign of anything resembling a typical doctor's room was that there was a desk and a couple of windows behind him- which had white blinds; it just so happened that the walls were white, as well. A bit obsessive, no?

Muraki pointed to a chair for his guests to sit, although lacking one, thus Tatsumi stood behind the younger shinigami. They were all wondering what this was about- though all expecting Muraki to instantly tell them their friend could return home that day. However, as the doctor spoke, they quickly changed such an idea, "Well, as you can all tell, you're friend is not being released today. It is also very unlikely that he will be allowed to leave within the next few weeks." everyone absorbed this information critically. Something had to have gone wrong.

"This strikes me as somewhat mendacious that none of you had even the slightest suspicion of what was occurring." he continued; hand on the base of his chin, index finger resting near his eye.

"What do you mean?" Tatsumi replied rather testily, he didn't want stall any longer than necessary. His friend was in jeopardy, and more importantly, he was not at his customary job, and being away too long rather lowered his cynical standards.

"Your friend, Yutake Watari, has asked me not to confine these things in you; however, I find it only necessary to do so. Mr. Watari has been attempting suicide for a very long time now." he let it sit in; watching everyone's face turn to shock. They definitely did not expect that.

"W-What do you mean?" Tsuzuki asked frantically, of course he knew there was no possible chance of his friend actually dying, but the mental state of said friend was in serious havoc.

"I mean what I blatantly said. His inner thighs harbor a large amount of self-inflicted wounds. Like I previously stated, I think it is rather odd that neither of you, nor anyone else, have noticed a change in character."

"You must be mistaken," Tatsumi urged, for once caring about someone, "He would never do anything of the such."

"That must be why a multitude of scars are located in such an area." Muraki retorted caustically, then returned to his normal self, "No one expected him of it, thus he demanded secrecy. Wrists are too evident. It is especially remarkable that you, Tatsumi, hadn't noticed such wounds. As you seem to be the most intimate with him."

A pink tinge crept upon Tatsumi's face. How did the doctor receive such inaccurate information? Sure, Watari and Tatsumi were friends, but he made certain that there wasn't anything intimate between the two, despite Watari's desire for there to be. "I was not responsible, if that is what you're inferring. I was as uninformed as the rest of us."

"Well, if you paid any attention to him, you might have found out." Muraki snapped. He found that this Tatsumi treasurer was not worthy of such a man. Was it possible that jealousy drove him to say what he said next? "If you would, for once, open you ignorant eyes to _someone _instead of currency, you might learn something of importance. He has shown signs of depression the entire time of his residence here. You obviously don't give a damn for him."

"H-how could you say that?" Tatsumi demanded infuriated. Of course he cared for his friend. Calling him a friend in the first place showed some stature of his feelings. "I care about him just as everyone else does--"

"That is precisely the problem. If you're so oblivious about this, than I see no purpose in continuing." he said rather angrily, Tatsumi was living up to be the tightwad his reputation demonstrated. "I can allow you ten minutes with your friend. If that is, you still care for him. Don't say anything that may bring forth his depression further than it already is." Muraki stood up and followed the men out of the office, down the hall some more, to Watari's room.

Watari was in it, yes, although not looking any bit happy. Was it because he knew Muraki cheated him out? He couldn't possibly know that Dr. Muraki told the shinigami, despite this, for the whole day he was on his bed looking out of the window melancholically. His face did not have the rose color that it was accustomed to, but looked pale, as if he continued to dwell on something for a very long time. Blonde curls once hindered by the eccentric crimson ribbon, were now frenzied in a fit of confusion. The blanket on him was awry, twisting off of the bed in some cumbersome angle. Watari didn't notice that his friends were in the room, for if he had, he would have immediately wiped away the brewing tears. Though, as he turned, his co-workers were allowed an exceptional look at how his friend had been faring these past days.

His frown turned into a radiant smile, the type he always used, and blinked away the upcoming tears. Leaning against the bed as if it were comfortable, he waved lively. "Hello." They just stared at him. This was the person that was trying to kill himself. It just didn't seem right.

"Hi!" Tsuzuki cried, smothering Watari with a huge hug. "How've you been? The doctor says that you've been- -"

Hisoka nearly tackled Tsuzuki to shut him up, "He said you're doing well." he covered the incident. Muraki made his way to the patient, carrying that clipboard that he had gotten so used to. He wrote down several things whilst looking at the monitor with various medical details on it.

"Has everything been sufficient, Mr. Watari?" Muraki asked, fixing the crooked blanket.

"Yes, but I'd rather go home… It's quite stuffy in here." he replied.

"In time…"

"So," Tatsumi questioned, "how have you been faring?"

"I've been in a muster or two in the lunch line, would you believe humans would eat such horrid food? Things have definitely changed; the food is even as horrible for you as it tastes. It's scary. I even tested it."

"So that's why you requested those materials…" Muraki commented. A lot could happen in three days; including your friend befriending a rapist. This hit Tsuzuki hard; of course they would be friends- they were constantly with each other. Now, the problem of Watari leaking certain information about the bureau to this criminal appeared. Would his friend wish to destroy the people that had made him immortal?

"Yes, and I also found out that the medicine they give us virtually collapse all sections in the brain! How crude! I've refused to risk my mind for the sake of healing."

"You haven't been taking your medicine?" Hisoka asked startled that the doctor would allow such a thing. Watari nervously looked up, feeling the powers of empathy prying through his soul.

"You didn't hear it from me!" he winked, "So, Tsuzuki, have you found any new tasty foods? This food is disgusting," he was repeating himself, not paying any attention to what he was saying physically as compared to mentally. Inside he was attempting to push away the empathic waves against his cranium. Hisoka tried with all his might to break through the other's thoughts, and at the same time, executing subtlety.

Tsuzuki pulled out a gigantic, baseball-sized cookie and handed it to Watari. "Well, I was going to keep it for myself… but I think you need it more than I do…" Watari accepted the snack gratefully, setting it down on a stand near his bed.

"I'll save it for later." he smiled once more. "Well, you should all return to headquarters… Before Tatsumi-san has a neurotic breakdown." Tatsumi looked at his friend expectantly, hoping that this wasn't really how he was seen as. He did spend a lot of time at work, but it exploited his talent with money.

"Hisoka, Tsuzuki, you can leave. I wish to speak to Watari for a moment." no one moved, including the doctor. "Privately." With that everyone left; Hisoka dragging Tsuzuki out of the door and Muraki following quietly behind. No one ever disobeyed Tatsumi without suffering the consequences of a hot knife.

"Hm? What is it Tatsumi-san?"

"What is the meaning of this?" Tatsumi demanded lividly once the door was safely closed, "Not taking your medicine? I will not be held accountable for your death."

Watari looked at him confused. "We both know that I cannot die. Human medicine is just killing brain cells. I should be home right now, I'm perfectly fine!" he argued back. Then, Tatsumi did something Watari could only describe as … utterly… provoking. The secretary allowed the railing to fall out of place, dropping it silently against the bedside. He softly climbed onto the bed, carefully watching the room for any signs of spies, and witnessing Watari's face turn to… Elation? Excitement? Pleasure so greatly anticipated?

Tatsumi settled himself between Watari's legs, leaning over to his face, and surreptitiously slid the blanket off his friend. He placed his left hand on Watari's inner right thigh, breathing in the day old, yet perfectly fine, fragrance. It was all bliss for Watari, feelings that were suppressed could be released now with someone to accept and cherish them. "Behave and you might receive a special congratulating gift…" he whispered, trying to be as seductive as possible.

Muraki's better at seduction than you are, Tatsumi, Watari thought; he stopped and verified that last idea. Did he really just think that? It was completely true, but not something that should be confirmed. "T-Tatsumi-san… W-what do you mea-"

He was quickly interrupted by Tatsumi's tongue probing his mouth. Watari gave in instantly, allowing his friend to exploit every weakness in his body and out. Tatsumi's hand traveled along his inner thigh, emphasizing his muscle's ministrations. His hand went limp as he felt the many scars. They were all parallel, running across in the same direction- death. The sudden affirmation of suicide caused him to choke on Watari's swift tongue. The blonde looked hurt as Tatsumi pulled away, gagging and choking and wiping his mouth with his arm. Suicide. His friend was trying to get away from himself. Death- the only permanent resolution.

"T-Tatsumi-san, you didn't like it… Did you…" Watari looked upset; he had been denied even though he didn't make the initial move. "You don't have to try and cheer me up… I understand you're only doing it to make me happy. But, I'm fine without your treatment! I'll be out as soon as possible."

Tatsumi couldn't listen for another second. All of this talk about "getting better" was just a code for "getting out to kill myself". Watari nearly bit off the secretary's tongue when Tatsumi lunged at him, once again using his advantage and kissing him straightly. What an oxymoron. He pushed the other against the bed, releasing all of his aggravation and appalled thoughts. Removing his hand from the other's body, he raised it to caress Watari's cheek lovingly. All intentions are for the better sake, he told himself. "Watari…," he didn't use any title at the end, was it possibly a new breakthrough? "… I'm sorry…."

He retreated from the bed; not looking at the hurt on Watari's face he knew would be there. Straightening his jacket, he wiped the experience off appropriately, not even having a second thought in the matter. When he looked up a chilling person stood in front of him blocking the exit. Muraki did not in the least look pleased. Witnessing such a repugnant scene enraged him, though he wouldn't allow his face to show such an intense feeling. Tatsumi was using Watari… The scientist wouldn't have allowed to be fondled if he knew what Tatsumi was thinking. A burning hatred kindled for Tatsumi, forging a life long grudge. If the grudge ever broke, then all hell would freeze over and break as well.

He glared into the other's eyes, noticing the uneasy reply he got- a tug at the necktie and a rather loud swallow. Muraki continued his foreboding glower, mentally shoving pins through every nerve of Tatsumi's soul. Every fiber in his body despised this money-oriented _boy_. Indeed, Tatsumi was much older than Muraki, but Tatsumi lacked social skills that degraded his over all proficiencies. He couldn't let this moment pass condoned. There was going to be compensation, reimbursement so great that it made Muraki grin.

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I hope you liked it! What's sad is that I'm beginning to hate Tatsumi... NOO!!

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Aimordaewilwarin - Thank you for supporting me! I hope you find it in your soul to forgive me for my bad luck! 

Ran- I tried to make the background sound good... I wasn't quite sure I did it well, but you eased my anxiety, thankies!

Nani- Watari X Muraki is awesome, I think... But some people don't understand the hotness of it... heehee

EvilAngelofHeavenandHell- I hope you're still reading... you wrote such a big comment that it would go to waste if you discontinued reading... PLEASE! COME BACK TO ME!!!

PuppetofDreams- Mr.Clean? Well, I suppose if chief Konoe shaved his head bald he could look like an aged Mr.Clean... disturbing thoughts... Dreams? I want your kinda dreams!! IT SOUNDS LIKE FUN!!

Goofy Edward- one would think that it is love... but it could also be angst in the making... Dammit, I couldn't write angst even if I wanted to...

Maefly- OMG!! You made me laugh really hard! "Tsuzuki...Hisoka WTF?" Everyone was looking at me like I was weird or something... hehehe... The dream was pretty nice though... I wish I could have dreams like that...

Sueona- Oh, Muraki is more than jealous of Tatsumi... He's livid...

Morality- Haha, It's good to see some people looking at the financial side! It would be weird if they started doing experiments together, both trying to capture Tsuzuki... Hahaha... I can picture Watari creating some kind of pokeball and throwing it at Tsuzuki's head with a "thunk"... hehehe


	4. Kumonosu: Spiderweb

Disclaimer: Watari and Muraki, including all other characters, do not belong to me... But... Muraki and Watari own _me._ Hehehe...

Warnings: MALE X MALE - aka: hot men sprawled out on one another, nekid. XD

Hello! D

I finally finished the chapter... So... Enjoy!

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Tatsumi slowly walked past Muraki, mentally praying that escaping the room alive would be possible- or however "alive" shinigami are considered to be. Muraki was grinning; a sure sign that he would _not _be. 

The doctor pressed his palm against Tatsumi's chest and roughly forced him against the wall. Startled, the treasurer smacked the other's hand away, only to come face to face with the rapist. He placed his thumb to Tatsumi's neck, holding him physically and mentally whilst selecting a rather frightening object from a nearby tray; a scalpel.

Tatsumi looked at Watari pleadingly, as if to ask for help, however, the blond was staring at them enchanted. There was no thought of aiding his colleague in this battle- nothing too great could happen with his presence, anyway- Muraki wouldn't want to hurt him like that. Watari parted his lips, tinged pink from the previous kissing, and as Tatsumi watched, he involuntarily cringed; it was clear that the memory would forever be a taboo one. Another benefactor of this physical grimace was due to the fact that he was in a rather _difficult_ situation with a very intimidating man.

Muraki positioned the surgical knife to the other's throat, smirking at the obvious terror. "Well, well, you have yet to sate your venomous tongue, I see. Take this to be a grave warning, Tatsumi the Treasurer: Do not touch what is to be mine." He snarled in unreserved rage. Blood dripped from the knife's edge as the asperity dripped from his words. "Or else you shall find your-narcissistic-self in a most taxing predicament; I shall _personally_ consign you to oblivion."

He backed off of the cur, not wishing to sully himself more than need be, and licked the bitter victory from the knife suggestively. Tatsumi raised his hand to his neck and felt blood trickling down his chest. "You shouldn't harass an agent of the summons bureau, there are many who wish your imminent death and would stop at nothing to achieve such a marvel." Muraki sneered at the seething remarks, "Earthly threats have no affect to my kind, including Watari-kun. Whatever trickery you are using to mesmerize him will wear off soon enough." And with that said, he bolted out of the door. There was no other reason for being there. Both men were blinded by ignorance and would never come to agreeing terms; all it was doing was wasting time that could be used in his office, taking care of the agency.

Muraki turned around and smiled with delight, a hair rising spectacle on its own, at Watari, whom looked absolutely dismal- what with being used and thrown aside by Tatsumi and such. "Now then," Muraki began, still keeping his cheerful demeanor, "would you like to go outside today? It is awfully dreary in this cell… I thought perhaps you and I could have a picnic. How does that sound?"

Watari livened up at the thought of escaping this cruel room, though only for a meal's time. His smile widened when Muraki revealed normal clothing that would allow him to change out of the filthy hospital gown. Where the garments had derived from was a mystery- only one would know, and eliciting this type of information would be useless, so the scientist settled with accepting the clothing from the doctor without questions.

Jumping out of the bed lively, he watched Muraki waiting patiently for him to change. The thought greatly disturbed Watari. "Uh… C-can I dress please?" he didn't seem to grasp the hint, "Alone…" Muraki stared into the other's sparkling eyes, seeming to separate from this world with disappointment, and finally agreed. Stepping out of the door he caught a glimpse of Watari tossing aside the gown, bend forward, golden hair cascading to shield his face, and descend a perfectly formed leg into the pants.

Perfection in its deceased state; this thought forced another smirk. It seemed as though this day was only getting better.

The woolen blanket was spread on the verdant pasture with both of the men unconditionally relaxing on it. Muraki had leaded them into some forest behind the hospital, carrying a basket of food that was ironically quite suited for him. The big bad wolf had, instead of kidnapping and devouring Little Red Riding Hood, stolen the reviled girl's basket. He had set the blanket down, along with the basket, and offered his hand to the blond to sit down. Watari courteously accepted and sat with the doctor, pensive.

Muraki pulled out a bottle of Chateau Margot- an exclusive gift for his service aboard The Queen Camellia- and poured a bit in two wineglasses, handing one to Watari and keeping the other for himself. "A toast to the exquisite beauty in this world and the next…" Muraki glanced at Watari as they both drank the rare vintage, and saw a light flare in his eyes. He must really have liked that drink.

However, to Watari, being allowed to drink an alcoholic beverage was making his desperate mood dominate his depressive. He especially hated himself when like this and the only way of disregarding the temporary disposition was to get utterly intoxicated. Watari finished the drink in one gulp and held his glass up for a refill. "Please?"

Muraki poured his glass and watched as he guzzled it down once more, wincing as it went down hard, "You seem to be enjoying this wine… a little too much."

"The more the merrier!"

"That usually applies to company, not wine." Despite this common fact, Muraki decided to decant more wine, in hopes that he would be allowed access into the other's mind. Watari was quite amazing. Everything about him puzzled the doctor. The patient chose to ignore Tatsumi's cry for help when cornered by him. Maybe Watari preferred Muraki to that bastard. His friend and coworker for however many years was bested by a high criminal master mind.

"I find myself quite baffled by you." Muraki started, staring at the man through his good eye, "You are such an interesting specimen."

"So now I'm an experiment? No longer your play th-" Watari interrupted himself, noticing the affect of the alcohol and reworded the thought, "How am I interesting? I'm only a shinigami… Tsuzuki's the same as I, why aren't you fanatical about him anymore?"

"He doesn't possess what I crave." What was it that he craved? His first whim was power, but it had obviously changed. "You don't let boundaries stop your ambition… Mr. Watari, you have a certain quality that I wish to obtain… Freedom… From ignorance, innocence, people, this whole damn world." He clenched his fist tightly, feeling the pain that was due. He didn't mean for it to be so hysteric, but as he turned to look at Watari, he fond that the man was staring at him sympathetically.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Watari replied dazedly, "I'm a pathetic excuse for a scientist… I shouldn't even be alive! Yet I'm here, talking to a deranged doctor. I'm cursed!"

"I'm cursing you?" Muraki lay on his back, "I think it's quite the opposite. You haunt my every thought."

Watari looked at him startled. What a creep. But, it sounded … genuine…, "Maybe… we're cursing each other…"

"Perhaps." Muraki glanced at the scientist. He was staring into the bottom of an empty glass. The doctor offered him more and he accepted gratefully. "This may be a difficult subject, but would you be so kind as to enlighten me on _why_ you have attempted suicide? It's clear that certain events have… had a penchant for your ill will… Is it really powerful enough to inspire self hate?"

Watari contemplated. Yes, things have definitely gone against his will, particularly now. Tatsumi. That was all he could think of. Why had Tatsumi kissed him? _It doesn't matter_, he told himself, _he betrayed me… and left me with this man. But, this man saved me. It's like he is protecting me from the world. Muraki was there when Tatsumi walked out._ _He was there caring for me. _Perhaps it was the wine speaking, but somewhere, deep down, he truly felt these things.

"My life goal was to be a successful scientist… However, my life was cut short when I was dense enough to inadvertently blow myself up when cleaning an experiment site. My whole life was dedicated to the field, but slowly I came to hate everything involved with it… The fact that I became a shinigami to work in the science department fueled this disgust; I suppose that's why I did it anyway…"

The man let his thoughts purge from his mind, and surprisingly the doctor actually listened, "I've always been alone because of my obsession. No one wants to be around me unless something needs to be repaired or if we're assigned as partners in a mission. I'm being held hostage by it. I just want freedom." Tears flowed down his face as he looked down, not willing to look at the other yet. Muraki's first reaction was to watch him pathetically drown in his sorrows, but after realizing that this was no regular man, yet a fervent passion, he did something very unlike him; he sat up and held the weeping shinigami.

As Watari sat there sobbing into the doctor's chest, he thought once more of how Muraki was looking out for him. Caring diligently for his wellbeing; tending to his scarred world which seemed to grow bleaker by the moment. The doctor was becoming sacred to him, a haven beyond all life. Or was that what all of his prey felt before being ruthlessly slaughtered? It didn't matter though, whatever the reason, he felt safe being embraced by such a cold hearted man.

The tears began to dry after minutes of comfort, and Watari smiled up at the doctor, appreciating his being there. "Thank you for listening to me ramble on about such nonsense."

"If that is how you truly feel, then it is not nonsense. It is quite ironic though. The attribute that submits me to you … Is something that you believe you are without."

"Yes, it is ironic." He replied. They sat in silence, Watari leaning against Muraki's chest, listening to each his heart beat.

It was not an awkward silence like one would have after finding out a disturbing secret, but one that brought hope and a ray of brilliant light. Watari, resting his head on the other's shoulder and his hand laying limply on the opposite shoulder, stared at the doctor's collar bone and out of the corner of his eye he saw a butterfly floating, falling down, spiraling in brilliance.

At first he thought nothing could be so beautiful, that it was all trickery of his frenetic and intoxicated mind. He watched the vibrant, gentle creature, undulating with the wind; descend upon his hand in a peaceful fall. There was beauty, definitely, and also a slight image of fragility. With the smallest movement, the butterfly would retreat from the ostensible shelter, as Watari knew far too well.

Muraki suddenly shifted, startling the man in his arms so much he backed away, still staring up at some nameless thing. The doctor looked up to see what was so captivating and caught glance of a butterfly circling around them. He was also fascinated by this organism and joined his patient in observing nature's rarest gift; innocence. Stillness wafted through the forest, both men sat idly, watching this magnificent life form fly. The ultimate Freedom.

Watari unconsciously leaned upon Muraki and a grin took form upon the doctor's face. This innocence was making a horrid, blazing feeling creep into his stomach. There was only one way to take care of that.

Reaching down slowly, careful as to not wake the scientist from his stupor, he brushed aside the golden curls and pressed his lips lightly to the man's forehead. Muraki snaked his hands around Watari's stomach, tightly embracing him.

The butterfly was suddenly captured in suspended animation.

However, looking closer, Watari saw that it was caught in a spider's web. Freedom had been deceitful. The skies were not as innocuous as they appeared.

Coming out of his own endless flight, Watari tilted his head back to see a nerve-shattering smile on Muraki's lips, that same smile that told the recipient: beware. They were all alone in the woods, he realized, vulnerable to everything near and far .

Two hands crept under Watari's shirt.

Alone with a sadistic murderer. A rapist whom had a special interest in him.

Stroking his chest gently.

Together in the labyrinthine forest. No possibility of fleeing.

Engrossed by the writhing shinigami.

No one to hear his refusing cry. No one aware that they were in the wilderness.

Splaying fingers upon the quivering body.

Fear. Building, clawing at the insides.

Forcing the scientist to face him, grin plastered on his face.

Tears shed from the divine face; apprehension clouded his eyes.

This was not right.

Muraki avoided this sudden emotion emerging inside of him by directing his gaze elsewhere. Glancing up, he witnessed the amazing creature held captive in the undermining mess. Thinking that this was the reason Watari was so upset, Muraki rose and made way to the butterfly. Watari rotated, wondering why the doctor was bestowing mercy. However, the silver-eyed man refused to look at him still, meandering to some unknown place.

Ignoring his thrashing desire to ravage the organism proved most successful.

Sliding a hand between the desultory snare and the butterfly, he meticulously extracted the creature from the web. Thinking purely of how Watari would despise him if he crushed it ever so tightly in his fist, he decided it better not to. There were consequences, meager as they were, and he was not in the mood to deal with them.

Fluttering its wings softly, the butterfly, resting on the tip of Muraki's index finger, was smoothly carried to a man sitting on a wool blanket. Muraki held the creature down to Watari and gently sat next to him. "You… saved it…"

"That I did. It is too beautiful to bear that gruesome fate." The doctor replied, twirling his thumb as it crawled around his finger. It might not have been _exactly_ what he thought, but for the sake of getting closer to Watari he said it. Gaining trust would be a difficult feat, however, based on the recent happenings, it was coming along wonderfully. Tatsumi had destroyed all loyalty between them, and Muraki was going to start a new bond.

Tears began flooding Watari's face once more. This time for the opposite reason. An overwhelming sense of happiness prevailed and purged all grief. For a moment, Muraki was stunned, unsure of why the other was crying. He wasn't used to so many emotions and especially mood swings from a man. Protecting the insect was a _good _thing, right?

The butterfly flew off; being shaken as the hand limply hit the ground. Watari delivered a passionate kiss. The organism fluttered into the open sky, whether going into another spider's web or obtaining true bliss was for nature to decide.

Muraki gawked at the supremacy before him. He wouldn't be able to contain himself any longer. After all of the effort, it was all going to come crashing down from a single kiss. All of the chains binding his aching need were spliced and left for naught.

Watari was oblivious.

Tenderly crushing his lips to the doctor's, a tongue grazed Watari's lips leisurely, as if to sooth the man. Too startled to react-though it was all ready too late- Muraki's tongue entered and began manipulating everything within touch.

Watari didn't know what to think of it. He had only meant the gesture to show how happy he was, and used the most effective way known to him. Opening his soul to this man felt right, though, despite the dreaded anxiety gnawing at his insides. After a few more moments of intense kissing, all fears were consumed and forgotten within the raging desires.

Approaching Watari so close that he was forced to the ground, Muraki was delighted to feel the other's tongue accepting his, moving in a fascinating sway. The doctor brought his hand up to caress Watari's face, and in doing so, elicited a muffled moan.

For once Muraki was pleasing his partner and not himself, which irritated him a bit. Finding the innermost pleasure in pain, Muraki forced his tongue to the back of Watari's throat, inducing the gag reflex. Watari promptly bit down, causing the silver eyed man to bleed and twitch from the sensation, pushing Muraki to let out a growl of satisfaction. He had learned this trick from many lacking sessions, however, of late it was in no use to him- as most would have gladly bit off his tongue entirely.

No longer did irritation plague him.

It was only necessary to break apart for air; as it was, Muraki's humanity made his lungs unable withstand the torment that the shinigami could.

He lay his head down on the patient's chest, embracing the man before torturing and raping his innocence. Feeling the compulsive need to ask before doing so, he inquired, "Is this to your liking, Mr. Watari?"

This was quite astonishing. For the first time in his existence, he was curious of another's well being. Such uncharacteristic impulses cursed Muraki; it was as if this shinigami before him was recreating his whole subconscious. Unsure of what to say, as his mind was a maelstrom of questions, Watari simply nodded.

Muraki licked Watari's bottom lip, beseeching his right of entry. Growing fervor alone parted the lips, thus allowing Muraki to claim them. Delving further into the crevice, seeking places that were most certain to prove worthy, whilst sneaking a hand beneath the shinigami's shirt, a loud moan was merited.

Playing with a very hard nipple extracted another moan of approval. The loathsome cloth separating skin was removed with a swift tug, only interrupting the passion for a few endless seconds. Things were getting hot. So hot that Watari struggled with Muraki's lab coat in a vain attempt to allow his chest to cool off under the pressure of the other's. Muraki noticed the frustration and quickly came to his rescue- once again- and removed it himself, managing to remove his glasses with the many tops.

The eager glint in Watari's eyes was unmistakable. It was clear- they both wanted each other right then and there- though the reasons doubtful.

Wrapping his hands around Muraki's neck, he dragged the man down so their bare skin touched with an overt twinge of longing. The sweat building up- from the slight apprehension and craze- allowed their bodies to meld together, mouths connecting as the contact continued.

Even if Tatsumi didn't except him, Muraki would. He always would. There were no 'if's or 'maybe's, only a known fact. Muraki was staying by his side forever. No one was going to ruin that. Not even Tatsumi.

As if on cue, Tatsumi materialized in the pasture; an equal look of shock and disgust rendered by a sinister glower.

Gently flying with the gentle zephyr, the butterfly was suddenly caught in another spider's web.

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If you couldn't tell, I was trying really hard to make a metaphor... Did it turn out right? I was really worried about it not being taken seriously... AND I noticed that my writing style is changing a little... ( Damn English class...

THANK YOU TO THE **_FIVE _**PEOPLE THAT REVIEWED!!! I LOVE YOU ALL!! ... Bear my children... Please... XD

Goofy Edward- Thank you for saying I write well... It makes me very happy to see that someone enjoys it... You should be my English teacher!! D I would like that A LOT!!! XD

Ai- Awwww... You're so understanding! Sadly, such interferences are always bad... Notice how it's never "Let's go to Disneyland!!" and that's how you stop writing for awhile, but usually along the lines of "You have two seconds to live." O..O It's very unfair D

Morality- Actually, I really like your idea. See, when I write a story, nothing is planned... Do you mind if I use your idea? I have it all coming together with this chapter... Hehehe... Yes... Feed, my Tatsumi... Feed on Watari... XD

Please review. I worked really hard on this chapter... and had a lot of fun writing it too. XD


	5. Shoufuku: Submission

Disclaimer: Characters belong to their respected manga-ka...

Warnings: ... Uhm... Well... Male on Mail I crack myself up xD

Note: Sorry about being so late... But today's a special occasion, so I decided to update.. For today is... MY BIRTHDAY!!! WOOOT!!! So if you're going to review, you should give me a lil' sweet sixteen cheer-me-up message I don't wanna grow up! I'm a ToysRus Kid!! ... not really... So, continue on to el story...

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The half naked doctor and shinigami lay on a picnic blanket, staring awkwardly at their sudden guest. Tatsumi stood there, thinking of nothing but throttling said doctor.

Such an awkward moment it was that none of the three men noticed a slight fog roll in. Or was that just the anger clouding the air?

Either way, the only thing daring to move was Tatsumi's eye twitching in suppressed rage. Choking back a mortal slur, he walked forward, the doctor watching with a curious eye, until he was standing right above the two.

Instantly, his arm shot out and grabbed Watari's violently, tugging him up and off of the rapist. "What in Hades are you doing?"

"I-I- Tatsumi-san, what a-are you doing h-here?" fear resonated within his voice.

"Hisoka reported that there were strong feelings of coming from you. So, I came here to possibly save you from danger, not find you committing some ruthless act with this _creature!_"

Muraki bolted up and grabbed Watari's other arm. "Where do you think you are taking him, Tatsumi, the treasurer?" he snarled.

"You needn't worry about such things."

A cynical smile played on the doctor's lips.

"Ah, I understand… The little boy takes a sip of an alluring drink to see if it as good as it looks. And then, throws it on the ground, not realizing it would only be picked back up. Now the boy is back." There was a dangerous glint in his eyes, "Well, I am sorry to say, you are no longer allowed to taste test. He is mine."

Watari flushed a bright red. "H-hey, I never- -"

"He's not an object to be thrown around like that." Tatsumi retorted, completely ignoring the protesting noises.

"Yet you insist on doing so. Have you ever thought about what he might feel?"

"I suppose you're the expert on emotions, aren't you; ignoring fate while you mutilate living bodies. You sick--"

"You are no better than I. Unlike you, I am doing the world a favor by refining souls- you merely tear them apart as you like."

"You guys- -" Watari attempted once more to stop the bickering, in the exchange of hearty words, both had began gripping him violently.

"I did no such thing. He was in need of comfort-"

"Not by the likes of you! Are you aware of the pain you caused him? The reason _why_ you just stumbled upon our being intimate is because of that pain."

"Some things are more important than consolidation- -"

"Like money, perhaps?" Muraki spat, derision emanating from his inflection, "Or maybe this time, you just want Watari to kill himself for good?" noting the sharp intake of breath from both Shinigami, he continued, pleased with himself, "Yes, that is it, isn't it? To you, treasurer, he's just a reoccurring obstruction, begging for your approval."

Tatsumi's grip loosened out of pure shock. How could someone accuse him of that?

With the newly found freedom of one limb, Watari attempted to rid the other from him, disgusted by how both men were acting. He never achieved this though, as the doctor held him nearer, pressing the shinigami against his chest.

"It's time you leave." Muraki said in a soft but firm voice, "You have hurt Mr. Watari enough for today."

Tatsumi watched Watari gently press his hands against the other's chest, seeking comfort from those cruel words. "Tomorrow…" he began, "You will check out of the hospital, Watari-san, and return to the agency."

Giving no time for objections, Tatsumi was gone in a flash.

The two men had returned to the hospital building, the awkward intrusion leaving the walk silent.

Watari was contemplating Muraki's words. Did Tatsumi really think of him that way? If so, he didn't want to return. He could live with the mortals, live with Muraki. Though, there was no way for this to happen, as Watari found. Shinigami never grow, never age.

When Muraki dies, he would still be the same; only able to watch as every wonder withers to ash.

Such was the everlasting curse of the immortal.

"Hey, what's wrong with you? You've been really mean to everyone since you got back." Tsuzuki dared to say. Speaking to Tatsumi like that only ended up in one-sided pain; _his_ pain.

"Tsuzuki, if I see you get up from your work table again, you won't get break or pay for the next five years." The secretary said casually, with a hint of impatience.

He was the same from when he met Watari and Muraki, half-naked, on top of each other… Sweat drenching their chests… Lust captured in their eyes…

Tatsumi involuntarily shuddered.

Disgusting.

Following the man's dictation, Tsuzuki sat back down at his desk. The way Tatsumi had said "work table" made him think of slave labor. " 'Soka, do you think we could start a revolution?"

Hisoka looked up from a stack of papers, not even bothering to ask the reason, and dismissed the idea. "Don't be an idiot."

"I'm not! Tatsumi is like a tyrannical slave driver! I say we 'get rid of him'… If you know what I mean…" he winked, smiling.

This time, Hisoka ignored him. 'Don't fuel the fire…' he repeated in his mind.

"Fine… But I thought it was a good idea…" Tsuzuki suddenly brightened, "That means we would need a new treasurer! I'm a pretty skilled accountant, I could do it!"

A startlingly fierce voice shook the room.

"Tsuzuki! Ten years!"

Automatically, the sweet toothed shinigami lay his head down on the table in defeat. Noticing he would obey, Tatsumi went back to his own work.

Moments of silence passed which created a tense atmosphere, weighing down on the secretary. Soon enough, a headache formed. It had nothing to do with Tsuzuki's idiocy or the fact that he had witnessed his co-worker submitting himself to a rapist.

_Nothing _to do with it at all.

How could that have happened? They were only near each other for two days, how much could change in that time?

One thought led to another, as Tatsumi realized he was still writing on paper, though scribbling some drabble completely unrelated to the material at hand. Another mistake to add to the day's list.

" Pssst…'Soka" Tsuzuki whispered.

"TSUZUKI! SH-", before he could continue, Tatsumi paused, calmly stood from his chair, and exited the room saying, "I'm taking my break."

This time Hisoka looked up, and shared the same expression with Tsuzuki. Break? In the world of Tatsumi, there was no such thing as 'break'. In all of his life, extended and not, Tatsumi had never taken _any _time off.

As the two shinigami exchanged bewildered countenances, the treasurer stumbled out of the room, holding his aching head. There was definitely something wrong.

"What… just happened?" the empathy asked worried. He had attempted to read Tatsumi's feelings all afternoon, but there was an impressive shield barring his path.

On top of that, the barrier was as transparent as the Count, and thus, pathetic. Usually, Tatsumi would have at least tried to make it less obvious he was guarding his emotions. But, today was completely different. Something was weighing on his mind. It was disrupting his thoughts in midspeech, making him stutter to regain focus.

And the workers just loved it.

"Do you think he's okay?"

"I don't know…" Hisoka replied, "We should leave him alone until he calms down a bit."

As Tatsumi meandered through the bureau office building, he found himself outside of an empty room. Watari's science laboratory.

Why was it bothering him so much? _He_ was the one that instigated it, even though those same words from Muraki were denied. But, how could he have known that something so horrible would generate from one kiss?

He couldn't have. And thus, it was not his fault. Or at least, Tatsumi ordered himself to believe this.

"Mr. Watari…Are you awake?"

It was night time, well past ten o'clock, yet Watari, half asleep and slightly dazed, had a surprise visitor.

"Yes…"

Soft steps were heard treading the floor, slowly approaching the patient. The moon was not full, but the dim light from the many machines in the room made the guest's face visible.

"It is time I retire home, is there anything you need before I leave?" Muraki asked, not daring to allow his lusting desire out.

Watari winced as he shifted in the hard bed, shook his head, and then wrapped his blanket securely around himself awkwardly. "No, I'm fine."

"Is that bed not to your liking?" he asked, noticing the strange way the blonde moved. "If so, I would be honored to permit you access to my private chambers here."

"You would let me? Would it be allowed?" Watari pushed- the chance of sleeping in a _real_ bed made his body ache. Though, that was surely not the only reason.

"Yes, as long as I am with you." The doctor continued, "The staff would not enjoy a patient, such as yourself, on the loose."

Watari didn't know whether to take that last remark as an insult or compliment. Though he didn't contemplate it long, for Muraki gently folded his arm underneath Watari's and lifted him up from the hard surface, "Come. You shall stay in my office tonight."

Without any protests, Watari was led down the many hospital corridors, cradling his body with the bedspread. It would be his last night in this building. The friends he had made would be all washed away by morrow's eve. Sighing with remorse, he tightened the blanket.

An arm draped around his shoulder, steadying his worried steps. This was a sign that things were going to be all right. Muraki understood the turmoil his mind was in, understood that the shinigami did not want to leave. And, there was only one cure for this depression.

Muraki held Watari closer as they entered a room with _Dr. Muraki Kuzutaka_ printed on the door in gaudy gold letters. The inside was bare- completely white nothing out of the ordinary- until Muraki led him into a side door, entering a room filled with the same bleak mood, with one exception. It held a luxurious, white bed.

Realizing that this was the bed that so many desires could be released upon, he cringed in anticipation. What did the doctor gain by being so kind to him? Was he expecting something in return? If so, what?

Watari's mind knew the answer, though he didn't want to admit it.

This morning was different. He was let down by the person he cherished most and sought comfort. Muraki was that comfort. It was the first time he was offered such support, and it was intoxicating.

There was more to it than that, but once again he couldn't bring himself to admit it.

"I hope this is sufficient, I use it on the occasions that it is too late to return home." Muraki informed. "If that is all, I will ready a bed for myself… Good night…"

The doctor began walking away, leaving Watari standing there stupefied. He was wrong about the fervor intentions. And this made him angry. Perhaps it was Watari that wanted him so much, not the other way around.

"Why aren't you sleeping in here?"

"There is only one bed." Muraki stated the obvious fact, "And, I would not like to spend tonight on a floor, as it causes back pains for the morning after."

"Then sleep in the bed with me." Watari watched a knowing smile grow on the doctor's face. "I … don't want to be alone tonight…"

"As you wish…"

Muraki was next to the shinigami with two quick strides. Touching his face gently, while hushing a pending protest, he slowly pressed Watari against the edge of the bed.

With innocent curiosity, the silver eyed man pushed blonde curls from the impeding view of lusting eyes. While staring into the golden orbs, he witnessed something being created- an eternal penchant for affection.

He leaned closer, breathing in the sweet aura of Watari, ghosting over longing lips. "You are… extraordinary…"

"I _am_ a shinigami…"

"It has nothing to do with that…" Muraki whispered, cuddling in the long tresses, "You are simply outstanding."

"I wish I could live up to what you think of me." Watari murmured, involuntarily being seduced by the erotic teasing.

"Do you really? Well then, the chance surfaces at this very moment." Delicately stroking the scientist's face he sighed, "You have only to close your eyes."

The hidden message was undeniably there, yet Watari obeyed, and closed his eyes to the sensual touches of the enthusiast.

Falling onto the soft bed, the blonde trusted Muraki to deliver safety to his soul and physic. He felt the gown come undone from behind as cool air swept over every inch of his naked body.

"You are beautiful…"

Finally, Muraki kissed the begging lips. Everything melted away in the fiery passion. Yet the senses were still acute to every little finger, every sound and feeling that transpired in the kiss.

Muraki's hands felt around the shinigami's body deftly caressing the defined lines. Avid sighs of approval met the doctor's ears, as they were wont to be. Though, even as the atmosphere hazed into frenzy oblivion, the feeling of guilt still penetrated the pleasured mind.

"Mr. Watari, you don't seem to be enjoying this very much." The doctor stated, upset by the lack of feeling received.

Watari opened his eyes to grasp the full meaning of the words, "It's not that… I just…"

"That's all right. If you don't feel comfortable, we shall stop here."

Just like that? It was okay? Didn't Muraki feel the slightest disappointment? As Watari watched the doctor strip away his work clothes, preparing to climb into bed, leaving the pants on, he could see the rich excitement built up in the lower half.

"U-uhm… Muraki… If you really want to …" Watari sat up, "I'm being over sensitive."

The doctor patiently meandered towards Watari, letting his hand drift to the pale cheek, "You're having a difficult time forgetting about a loved one… It is fine. Take your time."

"B-but… Tomorrow… I won't see you again…"

A small grin formed, "Do not count on that. Whenever you want me near you, I will be there."

Such awe inspiring words coming from such a heinous person. So deceiving, yet so enticing.

Watari found himself drawing the sinful person closer; binding their lips together; taming a beast which no law could.

After satisfying the blonde's mouth, Muraki strayed down, nipping and sucking on whatever he could find. A stream of gasps poured from Watari, praising every stroke of the tongue, every bite on his flesh.

Watari soon found himself panting heavily, hands crushing Muraki's hair. The doctor, now giving his every attentive fiber into pleasing his scientist, let his mouth and hand share the space of Watari's member. Doubling the pleasure.

This was not needed though, as just the thought of Muraki Kuzutaka performing this deed made Watari's muscles contract. He was all ready close. Too close.

Coveted desire coursed though his body, touching all of the right places, instigating the most indecent fantasies. The wet warmth of Muraki's mouth delivered him to a place without anything but this.

White shot into his mind, covering his insides in a numb wave. When the calamity passed, and the blissful satisfaction gained control, Watari found himself opening one eye to make sure he was still of this world.

A smiling Muraki met his gaze, a smiling Muraki with white cream between his lips. Licking the man's residue off, the doctor carefully kissed his scientist's face. "For whatever purpose, I will always be here for you…"

There was a certain hinting air about that statement that made Watari's breathing hitch. Suddenly, Muraki stood up and seized him in his arms, lifting him off of the bed. Moving the covers over, he gently sat the blonde down, and tucked him in lovingly.

Watari watched as he leisurely walked to the other side of the bed. As soon as he lay down, Watari was latched on to him, making certain that he would never get away.

Muraki curled an arm around his patient's shoulder, tenderly playing with his hair. When a thought came into mind, "Muraki, why didn't you…"

Fully cognizant of what the next few words were going to be, Muraki replied, "If we had done something like that, what do you suppose the others would have thought? I'm more than certain that you do not want your friends knowing, what with that empath of a co-worker."

A knew guilt flooded Watari's senses. He was forcing Muraki to be neglected. It was historic, truly, but not something to be proud of. Denying the person you may love for the chances of secrecy.

He was so vile; not deserving of Muraki's love and affection. Despite this, he let himself slumber in the man's arms. In the arms of his lover.

* * *

Ai- Well, Now you know what Tatsumi "is going to do next" or... What he did... XD Thanks for liking the previous chappie xp 

Sarina Naibara- Drool worthy you say? Well, Muraki and Watari would be pretty psychodelic if they actually did this in the manga/anime... I would completely throw myself at the TV/Book... It would not be so "drool worthy" then, I'm afraid... XD

TANKIES And if you would be so kind as to direct your mouse to that little button in the corner... I would be delighted.

And thank you Ryuu-chan, once again!


	6. Shuran: Drunken Frenzy

I thought this was going to end up short, but I guess not xD I have to warn you, there will be people that don't like this chapter. I am sorry. I wanted to write something smutty xD so this is the product of a capricious desire n.n

Happy Thanksgiving ;D

* * *

There were no cordial words of parting. No signs that the night before ever happened. Moreover, in less than an hour from awakening, lonely and deserted, Watari found himself meandering through the halls of the Ministry of Hades, ignoring looks of surprise and fallacious concern.

Traveling to his quarters, he overheard whispers of his attempted suicide; how no one thought he was capable of feeling so miserable, how his life was perfect compared to others.

_They're oblivious_; Watari thought with some composure_, how can they judge my actions when the d__enouement__ of everything I do is a malfunction?_

"Watari-san," a youthful voice called, "How was your stay at the hospital?"

The scientist met the all-knowing gaze of the Hisoka.

"Ah, wonderful, "he exercised a fake smile, "Although I wish it wasn't so short lived."

"What are you talking about? You were missed here, you're needed."

_Hisoka would never be so convivial without some other force_, he contemplated. _That man must be using him to peruse my feelings…_

Watari could not bring himself to say the name. The name of that hedonistic man. The man who forced Watari to return to the ministry, a place that held no levity. Tatsumi. Once his obsession, now his personal anathema.

"You don't need to pretend, Hisoka-kun. I'm truly fine." Another misleading smile.

As Watari moved past him, the boy firmly grasped his arm, stopping further progress, "Then why are you pretending?"

The golden-eyed shinigami was silent in hesitation, "It takes more than a few days to heal a life time of self hatred."

Inside his laboratory, accoutrements were exactly where he left them. No one dared to enter the room while he was away. Everyone was aware of the experiments he performed; who knew what would happen if something accidentally broke.

However comical is seemed, it was the truth, Watari thought as he emptied a beaker of one of his long running tests. This specific experiment was to change humans into the animal he or she represented most. An in depth analysis he had been working on for two whole years; a waste of time.

The day passed at an excruciatingly slow pace. A few people visited him, though implementing a prudent nature- feigned easiness followed by a muted, derisive snicker. Watari was beginning to detest these visits, so when it came to lunch break, he remained in his quarters, alone. Just how he liked it.

His coworkers took this as a hint to leave him alone, and so the rest of the day was spent that way. Alone. Disposing of the worthless experiments that seemed to represent and degrade his very being.

Watari left work without a word to any of the other shinigami, knowing that it would depress him further to do so. Thus, he arrived at his complex feeling more desolate than any day previous. The hospital always had someone to talk with.

Muraki.

The seconds together were pined for, every conversation, every whisper, every touch- if only for a moment.

As the time was drawing nearer to the later hours of the night, Watari found himself sitting on a shabby couch, swallowing bottles of whatever alcoholic beverage he could find. Perhaps he could drown himself. Since fire obviously would not work, after two accounts of it he was quite certain, then why not a liquid?

"Minds well go down the list of elements..." he mumbled to himself in a drunken stupor, "Hmm… Helium… That would only cause brain damage… Arsenic… that would work…"

Holding a bottle of some random intoxicant, Watari stood up, steadied himself on a nearby bookcase, and stumbled to his cabinet. "Arsen…ic… Ar…sen…ic…" the scientist chanted, searching hazardously through various chemicals.

Suddenly the doorbell rang causing Watari to drop some type of chemical onto the floor. It shattered into a hundred pieces of glass, angry at the disturbance, Watari called, "Come in!"

Footsteps were heard shuffling from the hall into the kitchen. Although at first impression, it was as if no one had lived in this building for decades, dusty, worn out, decrepit furniture and appliances, and seeming to be without a master.

However, that was at first glance. The man finally spotted Watari on the floor, gripping a beer bottle as if his life depended on it while trying to pick up shards of glass, and failing miserably, as the glass only tore through his skin with every attempt. Blood dripped down his hands, and a sharp intake of breath was what made Watari give any recognition to his guest.

Upon realizing whom it was, Watari automatically looked down, fighting back the tears tempting to fall. The sudden shock nearly forced him backward, but a hand caught him in the act. Raising Watari off the floor, Tatsumi examined the injured hand. Luckily, there were no shards stuck inside.

"What do you think you're doing?" the treasurer demanded, forcing Watari's hand underneath a running faucet.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Watari was going to panic; he knew it, "Please, leave. I-I don't think I can han-"

A silencing finger was placed on his lips. The contact made him shudder. What was happening? Why was Tatsumi so insensitive?

"You shouldn't be drinking. How many have you had?" without waiting for answer Tatsumi dragged the hand away from the sink and carefully dried it. "Where are you antibiotics?"

Watari acquiesced and lead Tatsumi to the bathroom, took out the first aid supply, and set it on the counter. "Sit." The man commanded.

It was not something he wanted to do, but to make this horrible man leave sooner; he sat on the edge of the bathtub while the man kneeled in front of him. As Tatsumi applied a generous amount of bacteria killing ointment, he averted his gave from the scientist's, internally preparing a speech just for a moment such as this.

"… Watari-san… I am sorry… Nevertheless, you should at least try to be like the old you. People are worried about you,", and gently murmured," as well as myself."'

He was now finished with wrapping Watari's hand, and brought his own hand to rest upon the other's cheek. However, the scientist was shaking his head, mumbling something incoherent. Finally, it became loud enough to decipher.

"No… Please don't…"

"I thought I was just being over dramatic… but I realized what it is…" Tatsumi was holding onto Watari's shaking head, forcing eye contact, "I love you."

Tears shed Watari's face as the man in front of him drew even closer. This cannot happen. This _could not_ happen. Why now? Why not _four_ measly days ago?

The salty drops continued to descend as Tatsumi's lips were pressed softly against the scientist's.

_Why?_

Tatsumi withdrew his lips at the same pace that he placed them. Slowly, dauntingly, lingering, testing every fiber. Wondering of if the shinigami before him would dismiss this confession or accept it whole-heartedly. The odds were against him, yet there was still hope. Hope that Muraki had not fully brainwashed his friend.

"No, no, no…" Watari continued crying, begging for mercy.

"I understand if you refuse these feelings…" he edged the other's chin up for a meeting of eyes.

"You're an unfair, insensitive jerk!" Watari screamed, allowing his drunkenness to rule over his actions, "After you possessed my life for so long, you just now decide to do something? How can you do this to me, bastard!"

On an impulse, Watari grabbed the treasurer's coat and slammed him into the bathroom wall, the impact causing a loud bang. "You can't possibly understand if I reject your freakin' feelings!"

Noticing that his colleague was now in a violent, drunken state, Tatsumi questioned what to do. Calming Watari down was his first choice.

"Watari-san, please control yourself."

"NO! What the fuck do you know?" He was now bawling, drenching Tatsumi's shirt when suddenly he forced his face against Tatsumi's chest. "I can't say no to you… I-It's… impossible…"

The treasurer smiled warmly and began stroking Watari's disheveled hair, "That's wonderful...," he whispered soothingly.

Once again, he raised Watari's chin, this time to steal another kiss. However, Watari being his drunken self, decided against another chaste, soft kiss, and forced himself inside of the other's mouth. There was no gagging, like the first time they kissed as such, or fear induced departure, instead, Tatsumi found himself being dragged from the bathroom into a room holding an unkempt bed.

After being shoved onto the bed, he questioned if he should stop Watari, but these thoughts were soon dismissed, as Watari, straddling his friend, stripped off his shirt and began mauling the other's mouth.

_You're taking advantage of him, he's drunk! _Tatsumi's conscience kept repeating. However, he was not heeding this, concentrating on another intense kiss. The repugnant taste of beer traded from the two mouths with every heated crash of lips. Tension in the air was dense, making it too hot for clothing.

Noting the heat, Tatsumi cast of his shirt while Watari shrugged seductively out of his pants. All Tatsumi could do was gawk at the naked, sultry body before him, wondering how Watari could cover it up with a lab coat. The thought of him wandering the halls of the Summons Department utterly naked made him suddenly aware of the thick build up of heat around his mid section.

He needed Watari in every sense- in every way.

The scientist continued teasing Tatsumi, internally laughing at the needy look in his eyes. What a wonderful dream. Being held by the very same person you have desired for nearly two decades.

Watari quickly discarded Tatsumi's pants, throwing them across the room to join the other clothing. "Take me." He pleaded, "Before you change your mind."

"We'll… need lubrication…" the treasurer gasped, unnerved by the sight of a fully aroused Watari bending over, his silky hair whispering around his stomach area, to grab a much needed concoction.

Upon being handed the lotion, Tatsumi applied a drop on his finger and settled it at Watari's entrance, prodding gently at the virgin skin. One digit entered, the smooth movements causing Watari to shiver, begging for more.

To distract him from imminent pain, the treasurer sucked on a pink nipple, playfully biting the flesh. Following the man's silent directions, Tatsumi forced two more fingers into the tightness.

"I need you inside me… Now…" Watari moaned, deepening their next kiss to the point of nearly devouring each other.

Slowly, Watari lowered himself onto the raging cock below him, giving into the erotic wishes of his mind. In mere seconds, he was filled to the hilt, not only aware of the jolt of pain, but also the rush of adrenaline.

Tatsumi was _inside_ him. Tatsumi _wanted_ him. There was no other possibility. The feelings were real, every sensation provided by every thrust, all the sounds melting out their combined bodies, the bodily fluids melding into one solution.

In one last impetus of the hips, Watari could no longer hold himself together- struggling for breath, beseeching his lungs for a few more moments of this heaven. His body was giving sure signs of completion: his wild, blonde hair soaked with sweat, eyes watering from the intense pleasure, a painful surge from his lower half, and a sudden release of built up tension, cracking from the core and filling his whole body with a sweet fulfillment.

Tatsumi joined soon after, as Watari's muscles contracted around him, tightly sucking him in deeper until every inch of his insides was melting in passionate heat.

They lay there basking in sweat and cum- an intoxicating mixture of adoration. True satisfaction marking the twist of events.

A nagging guilt continued to grope at Watari's mind. Why would he be guilty? He had been dreaming about this for years on end. It was the alcohol, he finally convinced himself, and submitted himself to Tatsumi's arms, peacefully falling asleep.

* * *

Yea, so please don't kill me. And if you have any ideas, please feel free to tell meh! I have no clue where I'm going from here . 


	7. Mooninguafutaa: Morning After

And thus the smut continues... or not...

* * *

Watari started, looking around, his head engaged in a loosing battle against a severe hangover. Where was he? On a bed. Thank god it was his bed. He wasn't sure what he would have done if it was some random person's bed he awoke in. Especially since, as he found when looking down at himself, he was stark naked. And by the looks of it, he had engaged in some intimate activity the night before.

Who would have the guts to take advantage of a drunken person? Or perhaps, he had been the aggressor, forcing himself on an innocent bystander. The more logical explanation was, of course, that he had been unaccompanied last night, drinking and horny, and took advantage of himself. For who would want to touch his vile body?

Muraki.

_It was him! _Watari attempted to jump out of his bed, though instead managed to be entangle in sullied bed sheets. They were still wet from the night before.

Had Muraki come back for him, when he was most lonely and vulnerable? The possibility made his blood rush in a cool excitement, temporarily allowing the migraine to concede. But if it was him, where was he? Muraki certainly was not in the bed.

Taking up the bed sheets wrapped around himself, he got up and stumbled out of the room, searching for the flawless man. Someone was cooking. That much was evident. An aroma of breakfast foods wafted through the air, though Watari was anything but hungry. He wanted to see Muraki. His one and only.

Shuffling into the kitchen at a snail's pace, Watari inspected the area. There was a frying pan with bacon on the stove, cooking, with a similar pan beside it with eggs. However, no one was occupying the room. Anger flowed steadily through his veins. Did Muraki leave him?

This thought was promptly erased as arms wrapped around his waist in a loving embrace. Watari smiled. He was still here.

Lips descended upon his neck, unable to see the man, as he was behind, Watari basked in the romantic treatment. Moaning softly, the lips stopped. Wondering what possibly could have caused him to stop there, a gentle voice- a gentle unexpected voice- spoke.

"Did you just say 'Muraki'?"

Watari was still. In fact, he was so still that Tatsumi was compelled to turn the man in his arms around to fully comprehend what was going on inside his mind.

However, the only thoughts repeating in Watari's mind were those of self hatred. What the hell was going on? Why was Tatsumi- that evil man- in his kitchen? Maybe Watari raped him out of pure revulsion.

Seeing this blank stare, Tatsumi began to wonder if Watari could remember the evening before. Though, the sympathetic concept only angered him more. Watari had definitely moaned Muraki's name when he touched him; the name of a serial rapist and murderer. Had he no boundaries?

"You thought I was Muraki, did you?" Tatsumi asked, caressing the scientist's cheek, "You have no memory of last night… Alcohol has such effects."

Startled out of his reverie, Watari shook out of reach of those heinous fingertips, "W-what? W-why are _you_ here!"

Tatsumi regained his grip on the man and responded in a seductive tone, "We made love last night."

Eyes widened- mind halted. What did he just say? The words refused to make sense. Made. Love. To make love, to have sex, to fuck He knew what the definitions meant, but it couldn't possibly be true. Why would Tatsumi say these things? He was a coward, running away from feelings confessed and acted upon. Now, all of a sudden, such preposterous words.

"You're lying." Watari shook his head, still under some incredulous hypnosis, "I don't believe you."

"You were the one that instigated it, dragging me to your bedroom, straddling and impaling yourself onto me."

This was a joke. Tatsumi must have known he was drinking, and decided to play some prank on him. Watari laughed loudly, tears coming to his eyes from the frustration. "This is the worse trick in the world. It was all very believable, but it has lost its humor."

"I'm not joking. This is a very serious matter." Tatsumi held the man closer, "I confessed my feelings to you last night. You were furious at first, but after talking about it more, you also confessed."

"I was drunk! You took advantage of me when I was incapable of making proper decisions!" his screaming awakened the migraine once more.

"If anything, you have never been more able to make decisions. Watari, you seemed very eager last night. I was only planning on seeing to your welfare. However, you were the one that brought sex upon me."

"Get out!" Watari screamed as the pain in his head did the same, "Don't touch me and get out!!"

"All right… I am allowing you to stay home today instead of going to work, only to think about this situation."

"GET OUT!"

Upon forcing the man out of his apartment, Watari rushed into the bathroom, the shock obliging all of the undigested alcohol to leave his body. He continued vomiting until tears stained his face and the taste lingered long enough in his mouth to ensure there wasn't any more left.

Next, Watari disposed of the filthy sheets, throwing them in the trash. His whole body felt disgusting. He was violated in his drunken stupor. The body fluids were dripping down his legs, something he hadn't noticed before.

Watari raced into the bathroom once more, turning on the shower to the hottest setting and stepped inside. The water burned his skin like acid, but he tolerated it just to be purged of the sickness that tainted his body. He was repulsive and needed to be eradicated.

He exited the shower, skin pink from the excessive scrubbing. Slowly, he made his way back into his bedroom, took one look at his bed, and got dressed. Despite Tatsumi's sudden kindness, he was not going to take the day off. He didn't want anyone's pity. Specifically his.

When Tatsumi arrived at the Ministry of Hades, his appearance was disheveled at best; however, he was clad in different clothing from the day before. It seemed he didn't bother looking into a mirror. Feeling a bit different, he patted down his hair, attempting to tame the beast, while many of the shinigami stared at his unkempt being.

Even Tatsumi could make mistakes. He did not regret sleeping with Watari. That was the best moment of his life. He did, nevertheless, regret not taking a shower after engaging in such activities. As showing up to work looking like a mongrel was not in his definition of professional ability.

Making his way to the employee locker room, which harbored a bathing room as well, Tsuzuki and Hisoka locked onto him with their eyes. It was as if something was on him, as both shinigami were staring at one particular part on his neck. He ignored them and continued to the room without so much as a nod of acknowledgement.

Hisoka glared at Tsuzuki. Curiosity was clear in his eyes as he looked back to his partner. "Don't say it" Hisoka warned.

"He has a hickey!" the puppy eyed shinigami squeaked. "Who do you think gave him it? Maybe he hired a hooker! Eh, he wouldn't wanna pay for that… OR it could have been one of those shadow creatures he can create! He must get lonely after all… Maybe he was curious about sex…"

Hisoka blushed, looking away from the older man, and finally responded, "Just let him be. He's in a better mood at least."

"You know who it was! You sly lil' emotion reader! Was he thinking about it? Was it good or bad?" Tsuzuki continued to question on about the treasurer's sex life when Watari walked in.

Without a word, he walked past the partners to the coffee machine, dispensing the hot liquid in a plastic cup. Hisoka's eyes revealed it all as he gawked disbelievingly at the scientist.

"Oh-oh! Watari knows, doesn't he!" the puppy whispered quite loudly across the table to Hisoka. There was no reply. So the man decided to take it into his own hands.

"Hi, Watari! How are you this morning?" he noticed that, with the lab coat on, every inch of his neck was covered.

"I'm fine, Tsuzuki-san. And how are you?" Watari was trying his hardest to hide his emotions. However, his mind was just screaming "Why did I fuck Tatsumi?" over and over again, louder and louder with each time.

"Oh, you know me… Good as always…" Tsuzuki changed his tone to a more playful one, "Sooo… Me and 'soka are trying to solve a mystery, would you like to help us?"

Hisoka glared dangerously at him, though the shinigami wasn't looking at him, but at the scientist in front of him.

"Tatsumi has marks on his neck, marks that look like hickeys. We're trying to figure out who put them there."

Watari dropped his coffee on the floor. After staring blankly at the two, he noticed what had just happened and hurried to clean the mess up. There were marks? Oh god, what had he done?

Both Hisoka and Tsuzuki noticed the odd reaction. "Does that mean you know who-"

"I assure you, Tsuzuki-san, if you were meant to know, he would have told you himself. Now, I have to get to work." Watari stormed anxiously out of the room.

"What… just happened?" the puppy asked confused.

"I believe you just forced yourself into a lover's quarrel."

"Th-they're lovers? B-but- so then they had se-"

"Let's not talk about the details, please…" Hisoka blushed once more. He was a virgin through and through, consequently everything having to do with the subject made him uneasy. The fact that two men could have sex made this feeling intensify.

"Awww, you're so cute 'Soka!" patting the boy's head, "So innocent…"

Suddenly Tatsumi the treasurer stepped into the break room, witnessing Tsuzuki delivering a swift kiss on the cheek to Hisoka. He didn't want to know what caused this.

"I believe you are supposed to be working right now." Tatsumi said, glancing away from the intimate scene.

"Tatsumi-san, Watari just came in here looking pretty upset… Since you're so close to him, why don't you go cheer him up?"

Hisoka internally sighed. Tsuzuki just did not understand what was going on. Watari didn't want to see Tatsumi at all. He was already suicidal. How was this going to help the man in any way?

"Never mind him, get to work." The man snapped, rushing blindly out of the room.

The remaining shinigami shared looks of concern. Something was definitely wrong.

Tatsumi found himself storming into the scientist's laboratory, wondering to himself just what he was doing. It was safer to talk in a working environment, he would be able to control himself easier, and Watari was not likely to throw a tantrum in front of his colleagues.

The man was bustling around the lab in a hurry, transporting beakers and tubes to different stations, depositing liquids, and dumping unnecessary concoctions down the drain. Watari hadn't noticed that someone was watching him, forcing himself to keep busy to prevent disturbing thoughts from entering his mind.

"Watari-san."

He instantly recognized that hideous noise as Tatsumi's voice. Hadn't he humiliated him enough?

"Yes, Tatsumi-san?" Watari continued keeping himself busy, hoping the man would realize he was attempting to ignore him.

"Tsuzuki-san and Hisoka-kun have brought it to my attention that you are lacking your usual energy. They were worried about you." He slowly began drawing nearer to the scientist, who was still walking around nervously.

"Please keep your distance. This chemical is quite dangerous."

Moving closer still, Tatsumi was nearly a step away from the man. "Would you please look at me at least?"

"I am busy right now, if you have yet to notice."

"I merely see that you are trying to avoid me. What happened can't be erased. We slept together and it was consensual."

"Do not speak of your personal life into the work area, please."

Tatsumi took that last step, aware of how the other was shaking. Was it anger? Or was he distraught? "How can I make this right?" He grasped Watari's hand in his drawing him into a tight embrace. "I don't want you to hate me."

"DON'T-"

He took a quick breath to calm himself, "Please do not touch me, Tatsumi-san. Right now we are coworkers."

Tatsumi did not withdraw, however, and proceeded to press tiny kisses along the other's jaw line. Soft whimpers left Watari's mouth. "I love you." Tears streaked his face as Tatsumi uttered those three words..

"I-I can't love you. Not anymore."

"Because of Muraki…" a slight nod, "He's a killer. What could he possibly have that I don't?"

"Motivation to become better. You only have a desire for money. Muraki-san is different; he has supported me and helped me purge thoughts of you from my mind."

"You were brainwashed! How is that good?" Tatsumi retorted loudly. Regaining his composure he spoke once more, "You barely know that man."

"I've done my research. You wouldn't know, but I have admired him for quite some time."

"And did you read about how he raped and mutilated bodies? You have seen Hisoka. You see the pain and rage in his eyes. He was a _victim_ of that disgusting-"

"Please release me." Watari would not beg, even if that was required. He was above and beyond Tatsumi- that lowly creature.

Tatsumi forced the scientist against the nearest counter, causing the beakers in his hands to crash to the floor. "Let go of me! Stop!" he screamed.

The noise was sure to bring some alarm to the building. So to hush the shouting man, Tatsumi covered his mouth with his own. Watari refused to kiss back, despite the tongue plunging into his mouth. The nausea returned with vengeance.

Even though he abhorred the man molesting him, Watari found it impolite to suddenly vomit into someone's mouth, thus he swallowed the acid and kept it down. However, something else was up, when he realized that Tatsumi was poking into his own nether region.

He grimaced in anticipation, wondering if the horrible man would go as far as raping him. Perhaps he would. After all, he wasn't used to loosing to someone.

When Tatsumi disconnected lips to breath, Watari immediately turned to the sink, in the limited amount of space, and allowed the acid build up out of his system. Tatsumi watched with concern. There was a tint of red in the mess, not that he was trying to color code his puke.

He held back Watari's silky strands until his eyes were a puffy pink and he stopped throwing up. "Are you alright now?"

Watari didn't answer. There was no answer to that stupid question. He merely turned and walked away.

As he was leaving his lab, he noticed two shinigami outside of his door. "Is there something you need, Tsuzuki-san?" Watari forced a smile, however with his hair a mess, eyes red from crying, and hearing all that had transpired, this act was not believable.

"N-no…" Tsuzuki whispered, clinging subtly onto Hisoka's arm.

"Hm? Well, take care, then." The scientist composed himself further and steadily made his way down the hall.

Tatsumi emerged seconds later, and noticed the pair standing there looking dumbfounded. His eyes glistened dangerously and turned to slits when he furiously lectured "_Didn't I tell you to get to work?_"

* * *

I hope I'm not portraying Tatsumi as a _really_ insensitve beast... Just a mild one xD Does my dislike for him show? Hehe 


	8. Kettoujou: Challenge

I won't even bother apologizing... But, I love this chappie, even though it's short.

* * *

It was nearly 10 o'clock before Watari managed his way home, carrying various lethal chemicals he smuggled from his lab

It was nearly 10 o'clock before Watari managed his way home, carrying various lethal chemicals smuggled from his lab. There was no choice about what was to come next. He needed to die. Something as repulsive- as sullied as him had no meaning in life.

Muraki.

He would most likely be furious. But, either way, the scientist thought, he is going to disown me; once he finds out… about… that vile act I have committed.

The poisons spilled onto the table in chaos. Below, shards of glass remained on the floor from the previous night; that much he did remember. Up to the point with Tatsumi, everything was clear, and if Watari closed his eyes, he could even see the night unfold minute for second. Reliving the night, until that … _thing_ emerged from the very shadows it has created.

It was no longer a man. Tatsumi was as disgusting a creature as himself. A man would flee from romance and leave it be; Monsters reject romance and then cold heartedly apprehend it by force when it is no longer offered. Such was the beast.

Watari searched through the powders and pills in an entranced movement. Hands hovering over certain bottles, fixated on which formula would end his nightmare. One particular container caught his eye, strychnine.

Asphyxiation was a common occurrence in the human world, as well as the shinigami world. However, he did not fret over the likelihood that his colleagues would believe it was a natural death; Watari had attempted suicide various times, after all, and leaving such chemicals to his exposal was a dangerous decision.

There was enough in the bottle to suffocate several people or one shinigami. The perfect amount.

Tatsumi was utterly furious at the turn of events. Not only had he been denied, but had shown characteristics so unlike himself that he was told to go home early by the chief. For his presence in the office was even more insufferable than usual.

So, by the time he was dismissed, it was after 10 o'clock- two hours earlier than every other day in his entire life. Thus, being a walking time bomb, Tatsumi found himself nearing the apartment complex that engendered this whole predicament.

Watari's apartment complex.

Upon deciding that this situation called for diplomacy, the treasurer knocked quite loudly on the door. Neighboring shinigami could deal with the late night noise. This had to be resolved immediately.

He waited several minutes, all of which were in silent contemplation. What would he say? Or the more prompting issue, what would he do if Watari ignored him the whole night while he waited at his doorway?

A few more minutes passed in the same somber way and the eerie silence whispered fatal possibilities. In a tumult of realization, Tatsumi barged into his friend's house, taking in the sight at once.

Bottles of poisons were scattered across the table and onto the nearest chair. Watari lay sprawled on the kitchen floor, beside broken glass and was, at first glance, lifeless. Quickly kneeling beside his colleague, Tatsumi checked for some sign of vitality, though unsuccessfully.

Like usual, he was very calm during stressful events, however that fact did not open more options for this kind of situation. Only one man could be counted on. Despite the cold blood running through the beast's veins, he was an excellent doctor.

Tatsumi manipulated the shadows to drape around Watari and, despite his dislike for teleporting recklessly into the human world, did so without a thought to spare.

Shrouded by darkness, Watari's body gently floated to his old hospital bed; the hospital had not placed a new patient in that room, after all, the shinigami was only gone for two days.

A nurse walking by noticed the supernatural event and would have screamed if not for a booming command directed at her, "Get Doctor Kazutaka Muraki!"

His heart was pounding, sweat- something he considered disgusting- plastered indignantly on his face, and oxygen seemed skittish of his lungs. Tatsumi was never nervous or scared, yet faced with his lover's absolute death, nothing seemed impossible.

Foot steps were heard rushing toward the room and then Kazutaka appeared in a flurry of seconds.

Seconds.

Minutes. How much time was left?

A bout of confusion flooded the doctor's face- this creature was unwanted here- but upon seeing darkness cloaked body on the bed, he realized that Watari had attempted suicide once more. "I thought I said to keep an eye on him!"

"Save personal matters for later and save him."

Muraki rushed to the patient's side, as the shadows dissipated, immediately checking vitals. "What happened?"

"There were bottles on the floor beside him. I think he ingested them."

"How long ago?"

"I don't know. It can't have been too long ago…" Tatsumi felt a sharp glare aimed at him.

"Fool." Muraki returned to his obsession and called to a mystified nurse, "Prepare the gastric lavage! We'll have to check his whole body before that due to _someone's _incompetence."

A surge of anger built, however Tatsumi restricted his hands from strangling the tantalizing neck of that rapist. He was needed, as much as he hated to admit it.

Nurses piled in with advanced machines and suddenly the room was so busy that Tatsumi was forced out. The only reason he obeyed was so he could contact the chief and report the events. Tatsumi kept a close proximity of the room, not trusting that Muraki wouldn't make an effort at something underhanded, despite how many witnesses there would be.

He brought a chair to sit outside, after divulging the details to his boss. So much noise emanated from the room, a knot in the pit of his stomach engendered countless waves of nausea. But he would not flee. This was his friend's- lover's- life.

Hours passed, and around one A.M., the nurses left the room. Muraki came last with an intimidating glow. "I have a few questions for you."

There was a dangerous tone hinting that this was not going to be a pleasant interview. Tatsumi followed the doctor inside the familiar office. Just the two of them; the room seemed a lot bigger than what he remembered it to be.

"There was dried blood and sperm in his rectum." Tatsumi's eyes widened considerably, while sparks of revulsion emitted from Muraki, "How?"

"It was consensual."

"Also, his liver shows signs of binging alcohol."

"_He_ seduced me."

The men did not break eye contact, but continued a hot-blooded glare.

"And yet he nearly killed himself. Watari must have loved it so much he no longer wished to live."

"Oh, he did love it." Tatsumi reveled in the sharp prick of pain he was visibly causing Muraki, "Watari called _my_ name as he came, driving himself onto _me_. He completely forgot about you."

Muraki seized the shinigami's shirt, slamming him ruthlessly against a wall. "Watch your tongue, boy."

"My sperm is accounted for and the blood was due to the fact that he gave his _virginity_ to _me_." He absolutely loved having power over the beast. Such a wonderful feeling.

"Heed my warning. I will not spare you. Why did he attempt suicide again?"

Tatsumi became silent and broke eye contact, "You do not need to know that; the only thing that should concern you is the patient's survival. If he's all right now, I would like to take him home."

"It is also my job to ensure the patient's safety before releasing him or her." Taking note of the treasurer's obstinacy, Muraki filled in the blanks himself, "He woke up the next morning, unaware of what happened, only cognizant that he was raped by you, Tatsumi-san."

Grief shone clearly in Tatsumi's eyes, and now ahead of the argument, Muraki unhinged himself from the tramp.

"You dirty slut."

Suddenly shadows surrounded his being and forcibly struck him to the ground. A deep red covered his sight for a moment as he realized what had just happened, Tatsumi had challenged him and presented the initiating hit.

Laughing, Muraki stood with superlative valor. "Are you positive you wish to fight me, Tatsumi the Incubus?"

An igniting spell replied Tatsumi's fervor. One of them was to die and the other would have Watari for surviving. The slattern man's powers held Muraki in place, swirling black and red binding the doctor.

"Do you really believe _I _am the slut?" Tatsumi took stern hold of Muraki's jaw, "_I_ did not _whore_ myself out to Tsuzuki and then steal someone else's property."

Surging blue and golden light leaped from Muraki's body, breaching the shadows against him. Within seconds, Tatsumi was on his knees, at the mercy of an erratic scalpel to his neck. "But you did. You dared to purloin _my_ possession- Watari Yutake, and failed miserably."

Droplets of blood seeped from Tatsumi's neck; a sharp sting of pain invading his body. "Perhaps I should rape you, so you can imitate the agony he feels." Muraki let the scalpel slide down the shinigami's chest, slicing through all layers of clothing, and creating a sizeable slash on his skin.

There was that glint in Muraki's eyes. It was so familiar. The same one he used to gaze at Hisoka. It gave the feeling that the receiver was going to become maltreated. Tatsumi avoided the expression, even going as far as clenching his eyes shut to escape the torment; however, even when his eyes were shut, through the darkness, those eyes peered at him with a shrewd, all-knowing element. Blood lust.

* * *

SO. Should I include character death or not... PLEASE TELL ME!! BEGGING YOU.

Thankies.


	9. Mochihamochiya: For the Best

This story only has two more chapters left! Review please!

Staring into the eyes of Death, Tatsumi sustained eye contact

Staring into the eyes of Death, Tatsumi sustained eye contact. For if anything, he wanted to watch Muraki suck the life out of him then watch him struggle in hell. However, the devil's face showed no remorse when his hand twitched again, eagerly drawing out the ephemeral moment as the knife drew more blood, if anything, the doctor was getting aroused.

Life stained his suit, and for a brief moment, the treasurer pondered about the after-life beyond the after-life- if there were ever such a thing.

"Now, I trust you to resign these ludicrous ideas of Watari. He is mine." Muraki growled, hand twitching once more with impatience.

_Just a flick of the wrist._

The doctor had to calm down, for one could only get so excited about killing without being a pervert. He inwardly groaned. How much longer would he wait? Playing with prey was just so… enticing.

"He's not yours. Watari-san is not something you can own nor contain. He's not an object." Tatsumi spat back. The blood dripping down his neck became unbearably uncomfortable.

"Insolent-

"Dr. Kazutaka!"

The nurse ran in to his office, finding the room stifling with tension. A man on the floor bled profusely while the doctor was apparently preparing some type of first aid.

"Watari Yutake has awakened. He's screaming for you."

Without another word or glance, Muraki set forth from his office, leaving the sullied man forever behind. Within seconds, he could hear the thrashing of a patient, yelling about not wanting to see someone. The nurse either ignored this detail, or thought it necessary to retrieve said person.

Every step amplified the sounds a great amount. The voice became comprehensible, swearing to rid himself of life and begging not to see the doctor. This hope was shattered when Watari, continuing to throw himself about the bed, spotted Muraki. He instantly broke into more tears, hiding under a conveniently placed blanket.

"Could I please see the patient in private?" Muraki softly murmured to the remaining assistants, all of which were pleased to leave this raucous man hiding under the covers childishly.

Alone at last, Muraki made his way across the room, sitting on the bed silently. Watari refused to look at him, making this very difficult for the other. "Watari… Look at me."

"Y-you're angry…," the pathetic voice whispered.

"No. I'm not." The doctor uncovered his patient, drawing him up in an amorous embrace.

Sobs poured from the weakened shinigami, grasping Muraki with all of his remaining strength. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…I d-"

Muraki only held his hand over the other's head, somehow comfortingly. "I'm not angry with you, only disappointed."

"I don't remember any of it! It's not fair… I love you… I wouldn't do s-something… like… that."

Muraki kissed Watari lightly on the lips, holding his eyes with his gaze. "I believe you. Although, I am more concerned about how you dealt with this. You should not, by any means, attempt to kill yourself again. If you as much as think about it, I will never forgive you."

Watari stared directly into the other's eyes, trying to discern a bit of fiction. There was none. The blonde scientist, succumbing to the wonders of his lover agreed, "Fine…"

Muraki held the small frame closer to his body, this time lavishing him with short, breathtaking kisses. Watari gave a small smile, attempting to cover up his loathing. "Mr.Watari… You are free to leave the hospital tonight…"

The scientist frowned, dismayed by how little time he had left with Muraki. However, the doctor only smiled, took off his glasses and began pelting the other with kisses once more. "Or… you can remain here … with me… in my office…"

Watari wrapped his arms around his partner enthusiastically, warding off all dangers his mind may have thought of. He liked the idea of cleansing his body and filling it with the man in his arms. "I would really like that."

This embrace did not protect him from reality, though, as panic seized him, realizing just who was watching them. Tatsumi stood glaring at the doorway, holding a white, blood stained cloth to his neck. Feeling the body in his arms go rigid, Muraki turned around, knowing he stood spying.

"You're not necessary anymore, Tatsumi-san."

"I would like a moment alone with Watari, if you wouldn't mind." He asked, not knowing why, but feeling that he needed to say something to right everything or at least a part of everything.

"Whatever you wish to say to him, you will have to say with myself in the room."

The treasurer glared at Muraki, then turned a passionate eye to the scientist, "Watari…" he said in a pleading tone when the man turned his head away, "Morally speaking, I was wrong to make love to you… But, I do not regret it in the least. We love each other! Why are you denying this?"

Watari stifled a sob, taking cover in his own ignorance. Knowing that his colleague wasn't going to reply, Tatsumi began again, this time approaching the scientist; risking injury to convey his feelings, "Watari, please… just look at me. Let me prove to you I'm sincere."

Slowly, the scientist lifted his head, gazing impassively at the beast before him, "I am watching … I am listening. Yet all I see is a pathetic excuse for a man groveling at my feet."

Taken aback, Tatsumi refused to accept this answer, "When would I ever grovel except to right a wrong?"

"To wrong a right." Watari spat back, holding onto Muraki's arm for dear life, fearing his self to retreat into darkness.

Shaking his head in solemn grief, the treasurer sought justice once more, "And what is right about this?" gesturing to his beloved's tight grip on the doctor's arm, "Giving your body and soul to a man who would rather see them ripped to shreds and desecrated by his own experienced hands. While I would gratefully cherish and value and protect your everything."

"How long would that last, Tatsumi-san? Until you grow bored of me? Throwing me away as casual as a used catalogue? And then where would I be except the same place you predict now?"

The argument was useless, as Tatsumi found quickly, Watari had been brainwashed by a gruesome monster in human flesh. Seeking immediate removal from this room- this damned room- the treasurer turned his back to his love and enemy and escaped the prison-like tension.

Watari sought the shoulder of his lover, digging his head into the nape of his neck, effectively drowning out the dismal censures thrown around carelessly by Tatsumi. Muraki patted him on the head, congratulating him on a job well done.

"I need him to sign a few papers before he leaves." The doctor kissed Watari lightly on the lips, "I'll be right back."

Without a peep from Watari, the doctor left him.

Tracking after the treasurer with commendable speed, Muraki easily slid up to him, unnoticed. Too late to notice, the man, whom he wanted to throttle against the wall for spreading blasphemy, was right beside him.

"What do you want?" the shinigami snapped bitterly, not caring what the answer was. However, he was forced to care when Muraki clutched his arm with alarming strength, swinging him around to see eye to eye.

"Watari is not going back to you or the Ministry of Hades. He will stay here with me. And you will report that he died from this recent suicide attempt."

Tatsumi was stunned. For one, he was being ordered to do something by someone he considered a filthy thing. Second, the lie would never be accredited by the ministry. Shinigami cannot die. They're already dead.

"There's a few problems with this." Tatsumi began, keeping his anger at bay, "Shinigami can't die."

"Are you so sure about that?" Muraki challenged, and seeing the disturbed man twist uneasily under his gaze goaded him further, "You also say that no mortal can enter the Ministry of Hades, yet I did. If I wanted to, I could kill you. But, as you can see, I need you, for now."

The treasurer considered every word, and to his own horror, believed every bit of it. However, he was not about to let Watari saunter into his own doom. "And what am I supposed to get in return?" He had to evaluate all sides of it, after all.

"Whatever you wish. Whatever I'm capable of providing. Of course, Watari is off limits." Muraki saw the refusing glint in the other's eyes, "Ah, whatever the child cannot have, he covets more. You will also have the guarantee that Watari has a happy life. Your world cannot sate his curiosity. He will have a will and reason to live."

"And this will make me follow your orders? A promise from the very fiend that raped and killed one of my very own?"

Muraki almost seemed like he was going to laugh, but that was instantly replaced with subtle amusement, "Well, you have my word, not a fiend's. You can even visit him, if your heart desires so, though under my supervision."

Tatsumi began walking away, ignoring his mind's incessant yearning to go back and strike the fool down. Words of spite followed him down the corridor, "If you really loved Watari… You would do what I ask."

A moment later and Muraki was back in Watari's room, holding the man in his arms. "I want you to hold me tonight…" The scientist said from the pensive silence.

"I had no other plans than to make love to you…" Muraki replied, whisking Watari off the bed and out of the room to his office bed. "I'll love you so much, you'll be begging to be let go of."

They traveled the hall in prurient silence, barely keeping hold of their bodies from entwining where they stood. Passion stole their souls; desire seized their hearts. Upon entering his office, the doctor threw Watari against a wall, ravaging his mouth, descending his neck, chest, waist…

"Th-the bed…" Watari managed to utter, realizing that making love on the door, which prevented this act from being exposed, made hiding to the office pointless.

Unaware of his body lifting the shinigami and depositing him on the bed, Muraki continued the assault. Completely removing the man's shirt, he delivered tiny kisses along his collarbone and across to a delicious, pink nipple, sucking on it effectively.

Watari moaned seductively, noticing that Muraki's hands, ever so slightly, wavered when he did so. Grasping onto the man violating him, the shinigami groaned louder, having not to feign such pleasure, as his body internally healed itself, it forced sensitivity onto his exterior.

The flushing body complied with every touch the doctor applied, finding, though not adhering, to the most responsive parts. Muraki reached under the other's waist and rubbed, although it was only meant to ascertain how much Watari enjoyed everything so far, he caught himself caressing the shinigami far longer than was necessary. Watari arched into his touch, accenting every move with an ardent muffle of a voice.

"M-Muraki…san… I can't…" Muraki's mind filled the unspoken words, though he ignored the message, delving into Watari's pants and grasping the burning member.

Forcing his psyche away from the impending orgasm, Watari coerced his arms to relieve Muraki of his shirt, making certain to take hold of his lips. Muraki parted the scientist's mouth, driving his tongue inside.

The sloppy kiss progressed, as well as how many items of clothing were missing. Completely stripped, they lie on top of each other, providing the passion only men were akin. The doctor trapped the shinigami below himself, fixating his zeal on his lover.

"I need you… Inside me…" Watari begged alluring, "Please, purify my body…"

Without second thought, Muraki plunged a finger knuckle deep; concentrating on what movements lessened the discomfort. However, the doctor found, Watari was quite loose; it would not affect sex in any way but it was evident that someone had penetrated him recently. Attempting not to let repelled anger course through his actions, he forced another finger inside, discovering it fit snuggly. Perfect, Muraki thought sincerely, I will fit nicely.

He allowed his free hand to travel about and cause more chaos. The doctor stumbled upon hickeys that he had neither created nor noticed in the darkness. This time he was unable to repress his rage, choosing to replace his fingers with his more-than-ready, throbbing cock in one swift thrust.

The force compelled all oxygen out of Watari's lungs and screams of pain from his throat. His eyes darted to those of his lover, questioning why such violent and sudden penetration occurred. However, all he found in those furious eyes were feelings of betrayal. Immediately understanding why Muraki felt deceived, Watari full-heartedly embraced the man between his legs.

Ignoring the show of compassion and clemency, he pounded hard, fiercely into the man; sweating the fury out of his system and heart. Watari was unable to moan, to act as if he were taking pleasure in it like his partner. The fright of his body breaking from the intense thrusts weighed on his mind, no matter how many times that certain spot inside was hit.

Watari felt tears come to his eyes, falling precariously, taunting to thwart his punishment. And that was exactly what happened.

Muraki felt something wet touch his forearm and when he peered down, saw Watari with his hands over his teary eyes, weeping silently to himself. Either for sleeping with Tatsumi or from his own unrestrained anger, Muraki could not discern.

Carefully pulling Watari's hand from covering his face, the doctor was able to see pain and grief clearly in the eyes of his lover. Suddenly wretched, Muraki held the shinigami to his chest, whispering words of shame and regret. "I'm sorry, I couldn't control my emotions. These feelings… they refuse to dissolve."

"I deserve every bit of your anger!" Watari cried, holding Muraki's hands to his own neck, "Please, strangle me! Do something! I want you to punish me. I am unworthy of feigned understanding. You're outraged, let me feel it."

"I have yet to pretend my concern for you, Watari." the doctor shied away from the man's throat and caressed his face, "Nor will I allow you to feel these emotions again."

Muraki extracted his now limp member, scraping Watari's delicate insides, and settled beside his defiled lover, attempting to mollify his dread. "I love you, Watari. I swear to you, I will not loose my temper again…" Muraki kissed his scientist's fingers prudently, drawing him up in a comforting embrace.

Watari cuddled onto the doctor's bare chest, trying with all his might to rid himself of his tears. However, with Muraki petting his head soothingly, more demons rose from his memories. Whatever had possessed him to fornicate with that beast of a shinigami refused to let him forget. Refused him the sanctity of knowing he did not want it.

Tatsumi paused, settling the idea in his mind.

It was for the best, after all.

He picked up the phone, began to dial- hung up.

Forcing a refreshing breath, he tried again, this time succeeding.

"Chief Konoe…"

It was for the best...…


	10. Kumiau: Join Together

Alright everyone. The next chapter is the last. Thank you for the people that have stuck with meh until the end (or near the end)

* * *

Watari awoke, obviously distraught, the next morning in the arms of his lover

Watari awoke, obviously distraught, the next morning in the arms of his lover. The night before had been a nightmare, one he would rather bury in his memories than have to relive in his dreams one more time. Even in his slumber, he could feel Muraki's rage. Feel his penetrating gaze, unreserved questions festering under his skin.

His body shook, reminiscing in the night terrors, and woke the man whom held him comfortingly during those dreams. Watari would never blame Muraki for his anger. He deserved whatever hardships were thrown at him. He deserved abuse.

The doctor opened his eyes, remorse shining unconditionally. He stroked his scientist's hair lovingly, basking in the morning glow of a night gone to shambles. Smiling faintly, he propped himself on his elbow for a more glorious view of his lover. Thoughts of waking up like this for the rest of his life flowed through his mind- waking to his exquisite man.

The perfect morning in his mind immediately failed, as he saw remnants of the night before reflected in tarnished eyes. Feeling as though words could mend the tragedy, Muraki spoke in an endearing tone, "Good morning, Mr.Watari."

The blonde perked up at once under the scrutiny of wary eyes, returning the pleasant smile, "Good morning to you too, Doctor."

A swift kiss was shared, "You should probably take a shower before moving about."

Watari donned a softer smile, perversion first thing in the morning was not always bad. On this occasion, Watari thought to himself, it carries the possibility to erase a whole night's suffering. "I would really like it if we showered… together?"

Startled by the opportunity to right a wrong so soon after the wrong had been committed, Muraki settled himself on the idea, "I would be more than happy to bathe with you."

Preparing a set of clothes for his partner and himself, Muraki led his lover to his personal bathroom, furnished with all the proper necessities. Placing their clothes, two lab coats and corresponding surgical pants, and a modest amount of towels, on the bathroom counter, the doctor proceeded to strip inconspicuously.

He peered behind himself to see if Watari was following suit, only to stare at a scantily dressed male depositing the last article of clothing from his body onto a neat pile on the floor. Smirking, Muraki made his move.

Holding onto the man with one arm, turning on the shower with the other, he forced a forceless kiss on the wanton scientist. He paused to gage his reaction, "Are you okay with dong this?"

Watari nodded, all scraps o the previous night were nonexistent in the eyes that shone vibrantly. His world of rapture seemed to increase as Muraki led him into the shower, taking a firm hold of his body.

Scorching water drenched their bodies, though the heat was not noticed due to their own burning, lusting bodies. Muraki placated the other's mouth, clashing slippery lips together, tongues joining in an even messier collision. While mouths were busy, the doctor slid a hand to join the stirring member below.

With a startled gasp that earned him and his lover a mouthful of water, Watari realized what had exactly peaked his surprise. Gazing down at a hand working diligently on his arousal, Watari decided to return the alluring task, filling his own hand with his lover.

Muraki groaned aloud from the unexpected pleasure, and tightened his grip on Watari, drawing out an elated moan. The doctor pressed his scientist against the shower wall, just barely remaining in the shower's reach. Plastering kisses along Watari's jaw line allowed Muraki an unobstructed view of Tatsumi's marked pleasure. Swiping them over with his hand, the doctor continued to leave his own marks on top of those belonging of the treasurer.

Watari felt the need to push the doctor back, finding that the same situation was what caused last night's violence. However, the violence never came, only unwavering desire formed from pure passion. The scientist allowed himself to voice his delight, and though he was lost to the sensations, his body maintained stroking his lover's hardness.

Satisfied for the time being, Muraki brought his attention back to the perverse body in front of him, and pushed his wet fingers against the other's entrance slowly. Expecting his lover to push him away, he was quite pleased to find this reaction did not transpire. However, Watari's hand cleaved his shoulder effectively surprising him to no end, "S-stop… Let me…"

Within seconds, Watari was on the bottom of the bathtub on his knees, timidly providing his mouth as an option. Without asking for further permission or predilections, the scientist gladly dragged his tongue along the shaft and base of the extremity.

Stifling a moan, Muraki placed a hand on his lover's immersed head giving suggestions to the novice skill. Watari readily accepted Muraki's hand that guided him in a practice he had never attempted himself. Experimentally, Watari wondered how much he could fit in his mouth, and acted on this curious impulse, allowing his throat to nearly breathe Muraki's pulsating cock.

The back of his cock greedily clashed with the back of Watari's throat, an act he didn't command with his hand- one he didn't have the gall to do, and thus was unexpected. The scientist took note of Muraki's twitching hand on head, the quavering moans and irregular breathing pattern and surmised that this was good. Very good.

Watari swallowed him again, permitting the manhood to hit the back of his throat and continue down a few more inches until the whole member was tightly embraced in his mouth. The scientist continued this method as many times as he could before Muraki dragged him off his knees, up to eye contact, and began prodding his other entrance.

Two fingers slipped in easily from two night straight of questionable pleasure. Shuddering from the sensation, Muraki read this as a different sign and nearly withdrew his hand, "It's alright, continue. It was just feeling really good there…" Watari rested his head on Muraki's chest, as the stretching sensation grew greater.

The scorching water was now hot, though neither had the attention span to focus on water. Finding that the preparations were done correctly and proficiently, Muraki coerced his lover against the wall once more, lifting one leg up to his hip and leaving the other for support. With a gentle, underlying possessive, kiss Muraki inquired to his lover, "Do you still want to?"

Watari wrapped his arms around the other's neck, smacking their lips together with ardency, "Do I have to answer that?"

Gradually, expectantly, Muraki worked his self into the man in his arms. Watari's face flushed with added, unfamiliar stimulation, the whole rest of his body flushing that same cherry color.

Halfway inside, the doctor granted his wish to plunge the rest of the way, which was greatly appreciated by his partner, who released a deafening moan. One hand possessing Watari's hip, the other his elevated leg, Muraki thrust again, careful of his steps in the slick shower tub.

Eventually a steady rhythm was created, every thrust planned and devised to explore a different angle of Watari. When the scientist screamed with fervor, Muraki knew that he had found that certain spot and continued wreaking havoc in that one part.

Watari's body was yearning, burning from all the sensations yet he still found it wasn't enough. As if reading his thoughts, Muraki grasped his hard, throbbing member and fondled it up after a thrust and down after another.

The added stimulus brought Watari's mind to chaos, he laid his head on the nape of Muraki's neck, nipping and biting. The doctor groaned and delved deeper, having to leave his lover's cock to fix their position. Pushing the man onto the wall for better support, he lifted the other leg , bringing both to his corresponding sides.

Watari felt the difference immediately, having never felt such a profound breach to his insides. The doctor gave another low moan, keeping most of his pleasure to his own knowledge and allowing his partner to bask in the full affect. "Watari…" his tone was controlled despite his heavy breathing, "touch yourself… for me…"

Startled for a moment from the request, Watari obeyed, wrapping his fingers around the head of his slick member. He freed a great moan, working his cock faster with each forceful venture of Muraki's manhood.

Witnessing his obsession delivering his own pleasure sent waves of discord throughout the doctor's body. Sensing that his lover was about to come, Watari hand gave one last pump, his muscles clenching around Muraki's excitement, spilling his seed on his lover's chest with a boisterous cry. Muraki's body expelled its own release from the pressure closing around him, grunting, thrusting all the way inside his lover, grasping onto his hips for support.

They rested against each other, becoming gradually aware of the bitter water lashing at their skin, calming their fevered minds. Raking his hands through his blonde, sodden locks, Watari struggled for freedom from the solid ensnaring of a tricky position. Nearly falling to his doom, Muraki caught him by the arm, raising him steadily, kissing him abrasively. They had been connected through joyous means. The relaxation that spread throughout their bodies was due to this fact, not only the preceding orgasm.

"I really… truly love you…" Muraki whispered into their kiss, echoed by the sharing person. A loud piercing noise interrupted this cherished moment; otherwise, they would not have been likely to move an inch the entire day. Although his beeper going off was annoying, nothing could ruin his enchantment… However, that was before he noticed who was paging him.

Tatsumi.

Without revealing who was contacting him, Muraki dressed quickly, "I need to answer this; it had better be an emergency." Kissing his lover on the lips fully, Muraki allowed their tongues to dangle for a few moments, grasping his body to his own, before separating, "I will be right back…"

The doctor did not bother to dry or comb his hair, finding he did not have to be specially dressed for this person. It was most likely going to be Tatsumi demanding his "beloved" back. Muraki would reply that he is not ready to go back and leave him to sulk in his own defeat.

Upon nearing the main office, Muraki could see a man, in this case shinigami, with flawless posture of the back, face tilted slightly up distinguishing self-confidence, hands strictly to his sides showing a bit of insecurity, and prideful eyes that could call upon the shadows of the hell and beyond.

The doctor, after catching the other's attention, tilted his head in the direction of a deserted hallway, planning to sort out their trifle matters alone. Standing in front of the treasurer, Muraki brought his focus on the man before him. "What would you like, Tatsumi-san?"

The condition in which the doctor presented himself said it all; damp hair, clothes thrown together in a hurry, glasses fogged- he had just been interrupted. Tatsumi fought the urge to kill the bastard in front of him, and decided everything would work out for the better good.

"Watari," he began in a steady, even tone, "has been proclaimed damned."

Muraki stared, raised an eyebrow in interest.

"'Damned' is the only term the Ministry can provide for right now. The details of his death are unknown."

Genuinely smiling, Muraki placed his hand on the shinigami's shoulder in an accepting gesture. Tatsumi did not move away from it, only cringed when their bodies made contact; now the doctor had to live up to whatever Tatsumi asked from him.

"First… I have to thank you, sincerely. I never expected that you would help Watari." He began, relief obviously washing over his body, "Now what would you like for compensation?"

Tatsumi had been taken aback by the realistic show of gratitude; emotions he thought the man was incapable of portraying. He thought back to what he truly wanted and why he had chosen to do this instead of reporting the whole ordeal to the Ministry in the first place. "I want you to give Watari a better life. Don't harm him _ever_, physically or emotionally. And cherish him."

A distressing glint shone through Muraki's eyes, as he realized it was a self less act of pure love, "Alright. I agree to you terms. Would you like to relay this information to Watari himself?"

Reviewing the state of dress Muraki was in, Tatsumi could only wonder what Watari had draped around himself. "No. I think it would be better if you told him. He hates me as it is, I don't wish for my last memories of him to be…"

Memories where you knew you lost. Muraki filled in the blanks, donning his usual icy countenance.

"You can visit any time you would like… I will never forget this selfless act… ," Turning towards his own room, he muttered under his breath , "Perhaps it will save _your_ life from being 'ripped to shreds and desecrated by' my 'own experienced hands'."

Humming merrily down the hall, he returned to his office glowing brilliantly by the radiant light of his lover, who lounged on the bed in a tired mess. "Watari…" the doctor sat next to the man, arm enfolding over his shoulders, "Tatsumi has just informed me that you are to remain here, under constant supervision."

The look he gave was questionable, but deeply etched happiness was among the first emotions recognizable. The other indubitable was misery. Watari was not dumb; he knew Tatsumi would not have allowed him to leave the Ministry without paying back all of his debts. There was something else; something Muraki feared telling.

Despite knowing his lover was lying, Watari accepted it. Someday, maybe, he would learn the truth, but until then, he could enjoy the blossoming new life with his monster, his rapist, his serial killer.

As Watari searched curiously in the other's eyes, he became warily cognizant of a familiar pining glint- familiar only because it was there after every encounter with Tatsumi. Throwing away his instinct feeling, Watari settled with cuddling up against Muraki.

Blood lust… he thought, what an outlandish idea.

* * *

Hmm... So, please review; I would like to see if anyone likes where the ending is going.

Thank you!

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	11. Hitomigokuu: Sacrifice

I am not one to post warnings, however, seeing as how this chapter is the last _and_ there is a lot of disturbing content, it is unavoidable.

**WARNING: This chapter contains blood play, graphic self-mutilation, rape implications (nearly), GORE, and YAOI**

This chapter was very hard for me to write at some parts, for it comes close to a prodding open a festering wound.

* * *

Tatsumi watched as Tsuzuki and Hisoka filed into the conference room silently. There had been eight recent killings, which the partners were to be briefed on, and then sent out to find out the reason for so many premature deaths.

It was not the deaths that had beat them into stark awareness, but the location of the murders. The case was centered in Tokyo, yet Konoe had specifically requested Sector Two be in charge. And for good reason.

All of the corpses were scattered in the general area that Muraki occupied.

He had to be involved.

And though the chief only thought of Hisoka confronting his own killer and rapist, Tatsumi found the plan worked very well for him, as well.

The Ministry of Hades pondered Watari's death for quite some time, but the investigation was bordering on one year of incompletion. They would have loved to put the case to rest, and would have if Enmacho controlled Tokyo as usual.

It all worked in his favor; Tatsumi even requested to join Tsuzuki and Hisoka in their investigation; Konoe happily granted this, believing Hisoka may not be able to control Tsuzuki this time.

The pair had been, or at least Tsuzuki, wondering aloud about how Watari could die in the after death. It was time both of them knew the truth.

And with this thought in mind, he transferred their energy into the human world, followed by the respected bodies- as how teleportation was operated.

… …

Watari moaned into the heated kiss, seeking a soft place to harbor his body while succumbing to this great pleasure. Heedlessly, he fell backwards, onto the welcoming bed they used of late. _Used _implies "utilized until satisfaction", yet that was never the case.

Perhaps _this_ time would be different, the scientist hoped, bringing his right hand to cup Muraki's aroused member with need. Licking his lips testily, Watari melted into another kiss, settling comfortably against the bed, a familiar weight pressing on him.

Muraki groaned and slightly pushed the hand holding his member away, yearning to dissipate this build up inside of his lover. Brushing Watari's flamboyant hair from both their faces, he attempted to give a sweet kiss before delving into sweet desire.

However, Watari could already see this ending in disaster and forced his way from beneath the doctor. This did not startle Muraki, only caused a brief sigh and shake of the head.

The scientist peered over his bare shoulder from his side of the bed, "You're not telling me something…"

Muraki ran a hand shakily through hoary tresses, choosing silence for a response.

"You've lost all interest in me."

The doctor turned to Watari in disbelief, "No. How could you say that? I love you."

"Then why can't you hold me?"

"For the same reasons you have been avoiding me." He responded with remarkable clarity.

"I hardly believe that."

"Then tell me why, so we can deal with this. I truly want to touch and make love to you… But with these barriers…"

Watari sat idle during the two-minute lecture handed to him on such an occasion. And to his horror, these lectures were beginning to take up most of their time together, if not all.

Both men had their own reasons for seeking privacy for a few hours of the day, though being a doctor did not allow many free hours in the first place. Thus, the time that Muraki had devoted to Watari, he now spent outside- acting out his obsession and addiction. Reacquainting himself with something so pleasing yet so sinful.

Muraki swung his legs around his scientist's contours, letting his feet dangle off the bed while his mouth greeted the other's flesh. "I love you, Watari. So-"

The walls of his office bedroom suddenly wavered, rippling like a drop of water in a lake. Something felt odd for a moment, and then disappeared as quickly as it came. Muraki sensed another's presence in the room and spun around with the vivacity bestowed upon a prey in danger.

Standing in front of the bed was three shinigami. The doctor's surprise and abhorrence cleared from the thought that he told this beast, Tatsumi, that visitation was allowed. Though disturbing his time with his lover could not be condoned.

"What do you think you're doing here?" Muraki snapped, sheltering Watari's naked, confused form with a blanket, which was retrieved in haste.

Tsuzuki and Hisoka only stared perplexed. Not by the sight of two naked males on a disheveled bed, but the fact that one of these males had been declared "damned" and no longer existed. Obviously, someone was lying.

"You told me I could visit." Tatsumi replied calmly, attempting to keep his eyes from wandering.

Muraki lifted his hands, gesturing to the situation, "Have you no shame? We're busy, leave."

Watari grimaced and stood up, blanket covering every inch of his bare skin, picked up a pair of pants and shirt on the floor and fled into an adjoining bathroom. The four men in the room only stared at each other. The doctor, finding no shame in the situation, lifted his pants from the corner of the bed and slip into them accordingly.

Hisoka blanched, while Tsuzuki addressed Tatsumi, "He's alive! You knew! W-Wh-"

"He wished to stay; I have no control over him." The treasurer responded nonchalantly.

"And I thanked you for arranging his stay with me, but I do have to comment on your timing." Muraki finished buttoning his pants and picked up a shirt on the floor, "Next time, contact us before visiting unannounced."

Watari emerged from the bathroom and pouted, "Like we were _doing_ anything."

Muraki seemed troubled from the comment, only to rebuke Tatsumi more, "What is your reason for interrupting us?"

Watari sighed loudly in protest. Muraki ignored.

"We hoped you could help us with a case…" Tatsumi stared intently at Muraki, gauging and waiting for any abnormal reactions, "Eight humans have been killed around this area, and we though who else to aid us, except … Muraki…"

Watari looked crushed and implored the doctor, "Y-you didn't… did you?"

He knew his lover was hiding something, but could he have been _killing _people? Watari understood now why Muraki could not tell him where he was going at night, or why they never made love anymore. Bloodlust. It was a curse and addiction he could relate too.

Muraki's exterior did not enlighten the others of any discomfort or guilt. If he were truly the killer, then he had no remorse whatsoever. A natural cold-blooded murderer.

"How did you think _I _could help? Did you wish for me to capture this fiend?" He sneered.

"Perhaps. We believe… you know the killer directly."

By this point, the tension in the room drowned any reunited greetings. However, Tsuzuki found this to be intolerable, and his need to pester Watari grew more imminent than Tatsumi and Muraki quarreling with each other.

So acting on instinct alone, Tsuzuki attacked Watari in a numbing hug long missed. He spoke in his animated puppy-dog way, "How've you been! I've- I mean we've- missed you!"

Watari laughed and patted his friend on the head, "I'm fine and how are you Tsuzuki?"

"Oh, I'm good. On the last case we did, we got to stay at a four star hotel! Just don't tell _him_." Tsuzuki said pointing directly at Tatsumi.

The treasurer, upon hearing this, turned his head sharply in the offending shinigami's direction. Tsuzuki could only imagine his punishment.

"I-I think he heard…" he muttered in a hushed tone, immediately returning to his Watari voice, "We really thought you were dead, this is a big shock."

Watari stared at him confusedly, and then beseeched his lover, "I died?"

"It was necessary in order for you to stay here." Muraki replied, dragging Watari to his side and away from the predatory hug of Tsuzuki. He spoke to Tatsumi, "I do not know anything. You may continue your visit, but I must leave now."

But before leaving, the doctor glared at Tatsumi, "If you touch him, _you _will be 'damned'."

Muraki exited the room coolly, and when he was completely away from their eyes, clenched his fists tightly and snarled in rage. He did not _mean _to target people near the hospital. Did not mean to have the shinigami become suspicious. _There isn't any evidence_, he assured himself, for this he knew for sure.

… …

The group of shinigami found a quiet restaurant and, Tatsumi acting rather strange by Tsuzuki's standards, allowed everyone their own meal- no matter the price. They talked while eating; Watari could barely stomach anything, and so found himself playing with his food- faking few bites.

When the subject of their investigation arose, Watari sincerely denied the accusations, "He's changed. Muraki has not hurt me or anyone else for over a year now. I doubt he would resort to killing innocent people."

"He has before." Hisoka reminded him, being the prime example. Watari sighed and stared at his plate.

"I … am truly sorry, Hisoka-kun…"

"You didn't kill me; you don't have to be sorry." The boy's voice cracked. Tsuzuki, sitting next to him, wrapped an arm around him for comfort, but Hisoka ignored it.

… …

Muraki sat in his office debating what to do. Just from seeing Tatsumi his mind fogged with hatred. Whenever he killed, it was not an innocent person. It was Tatsumi in his mind, begging for retribution in the form of a knife and blood.

He craved someone's life in his hands, blood pouring, staining his afterlife with a pure infection. He needed the control, the evocation of sweet submission. Yet he found himself wanting, not acting. This need would have to be addressed some time later, when detection no longer proved a threat.

… …

"We'll be in the Asakusa Hotel, if you need to reach us." Tatsumi signaled the two other shinigami to go ahead of him. When they were completely out of sight, he turned back to Watari, "Are you absolutely certain he isn't dong this?"

The scientist stared at Tatsumi for a moment, wondering if this really was just a professional discussion- private life unassociated. Having this grand reunion with his friends after so long made him realize something. His hatred for Tatsumi had died down from lack of the catalyst for over a year.

It was awkward, but not insufferable.

"He's changed. Muraki would not resort to that again." The scientist replied confidently.

The treasurer let his eyes trail up and down his body for a moment, eliciting shuffled, uncomfortable movement from the receiver, and decided to confront the situation, "Just like how you haven't done _that_ for a year?"

Watari's eyes bulged at the accusation.

"You can't hide it from me, Watari. You were staring at the knife beside your plate the whole time. You didn't even bother pretending to eat."

This time the blonde man flushed with guilt and gave the cement below their feet his undivided attention.

"If this is true happiness, by all means, continue." Tatsumi took a quick step forward, nearly a foot away from his lost friend, "Otherwise, I can reinstate you into the Ministry. _I_ can make you happy, Watari."

Watari brought his gaze up to Tatsumi, his mouth distorted in a feigned smile, "I am happy. And I definitely do not want you to ruin that."

Solemn, pleading eyes probed Watari's and then gave up. There was no point in continuing. Shrugging off his worry for his former beloved, as he termed Watari- though everyone knew otherwise, he walked away.

… …

Watari sat on the edge of the bathtub deliberating.

The scalpel was right there.

He only needed to lift a finger and holy salvation would be his.

Tatsumi had been right in his allegation; he _had been_ inflicting pain upon himself for some time now. He started after noticing how Muraki refused to hold, and nearly to the point of ignore, him. He needed some form of stimulation, the chemicals released from one cut were yearned for, so another and another would appear, though Muraki never noticed.

He grabbed the scalpel eagerly, his face lit with desire. Slowly lowering it to his thigh, Watari's eyes shut from anticipation, a fine line sliced through bare skin. He moaned softly, allowing the blade to pierce deeper.

The feelings swarming inside his mind and body were unlike anything. Compassionate metal sealed his insecurities, struggling against oppressive thoughts to deliver this one birthright, as warm crimson dripped from the ceremonious blade.

It was all too much, euphoria gripped his mind and the scalpel fell from his numb clutch after safely furnishing his thigh with inchoate pleasure.

The deed having been done, Watari peeked at the wound, eyes flickering with passion, and smiled at his handiwork. His ears were ringing and every sound echoed and throbbed, morphing together; eyes stared at everything and nothing, reliving the vivid experience.

Suddenly a sharp voice severed his connection with this purity. Confused, Watari raised his blurry vision to a figure standing before him. This form, most likely a person, was shouting something. He could not understand, but whatever it was, it had to be important.

Only when strong hands grabbed his shoulders, shaking him to awareness, did he fully comprehend. Muraki had caught him.

The doctor picked up the bleeding scalpel and brought it within Watari's view, "What the hell is this?"

Watari gaped and gasped for breath. How could he explain? "_You're _killing people, why can't I indulge in _my _obsession?"

His case did not hold any evidence, and although it was borderline childish, Muraki glared at him, a familiar glint emerging. "Did you tell your lover? Or perhaps you want me to kill him as well, while you slice your body open to store the corpse!"

Watari was taken aback by this outburst. He quickly stood up, swayed a bit and pushed Muraki away as he stepped out of the bathroom and into their bedroom. Attempting to clear his mind, Watari was thrown onto the bed.

Without a second to waste, Muraki pinned him down; bloodlust shone in his eyes as clear as the embers of hell. The doctor let his control waver and now he faced the consequences. The stimulation of sacrificial blood coursed through his body.

Watari was frightened, without a doubt. However, when his pants were tugged down and a sharp blade skimmed a fresh mark, ecstasy clouded his mind. Throwing his head back with a lewd scream, Watari felt his own blood trickle onto scar tissue; creating an even greater sensation.

"Is this what you want?" Muraki's voice, distant and withheld, resonated within the scientist's head. Another slash bit through raw flesh- another fervent scream decorated the air.

Blood splashed onto white sheets- any innocence in the room had been scourged and left filthy. Just the way Muraki liked it.

He led the blade to his lover's hip, slicing open immaculate skin. Watari's hand shot out to grapple the doctor's hair, roughly tugging and wrenching. Muraki understood, and slowly bent forward, kissing him brusquely, allowing his teeth the pleasure of digging into the other's tongue.

A salty flavor instantly flooded both their senses. Muraki's hold on the dagger tightened, adrenaline acting on its own to create another incision, this one barely below Watari's nipple- tearing the shinigami's shirt effectively.

"Answer me!" Muraki snarled, dragging the scalpel down his lover's chest, blood seeping through every crevice, staining the doctor's lab coat a sinister scarlet.

Watari choked down the saline taste, his voice cracking from pain, "I-I- Yes. I want… this…"

Submission. Untainted, genuine submission. Exactly what the doctor ordered.

"Then you wouldn't mind…" Muraki began, sliding the blade, tracing every curve, until Watari's entrance hindered progress, "Being cut from the inside out."

The shinigami's eyes opened wide, discovering that Muraki was prepared to support his words. "N-no! Not there!" He screamed, though in vain, as a sharp pain sidled inside and up his spine.

Disbelief made the throbbing worsen; he could feel blood escaping from his passage, though Muraki only smirked and began lapping up the thick fluid from his chest. Chuckling to himself, the doctor pulled the scalpel out of his lover, licking the gleaming red coat from the weapon.

Tears soaked Watari's face as blood drenched his body and surroundings. Despite the pain and terror, desire filled his veins and swelled his heart. The stench of blood or the excruciating pain controlling his movements mattered little now. Watari's whole essence was overpowered by a cruel dictatorship, although one he had come to love and cherish as his own.

The faint sound of a zipper processed in his mind as a wisp of wind; hands wrestling tethered clothes from his mangled body seemed gentle and soothing; a rigid shaft forced into his sanguinary insides contained violence and brutality though felt less threatening than two children exchanging heated words.

Muraki clenched the scalpel with one hand, the other cleaving onto his lover's thigh; finely honed nails digging bloody trenches in putrid flesh. Watari's cries imitated the vicious thrusts and volatile dagger exploring under his skin. And with each slutty scream, he was rewarded with even greater spiteful force until his throat, raw and sore, gave pathetic whimpers.

The doctor grunted and drove himself further within the haggard man, eliciting a crude moan. He placed the weapon between two swollen nipples and carved into dried blood and severed skin, etching soon-to-be-scars of a glorious night.

With one last pleasurable decant of crimson, last whip of the tongue, cry of passion and slaughterous glare, white heat scorched their bodies as minds were torn asunder.

The two worn, splint bodies eased into a fresh pool of blood, breathing heavily and dazed beyond anything worldly.

After several moments of wandering in bliss, Watari risked a peek at his lover's face- wondering if their previous tryst granted him amnesty.

Muraki returned Watari's gaze, and the glint that had become an ill-omen and instigated the whole predicament had been replaced with an eerie glimmer of stark love. The prolix sacrifice had been paid. Though he had wished Tatsumi's blood stained his fingertips, his own lover's worked just as well, if not better. This consecrated shinigami defied all odds of demise, and his blood would wash away all sins and depravity without tarnishing.

For Watari was more than a sacrifice.

Watari was the salvation his soul sought.

The salvation of inexhaustible love.

* * *

Thank you for sticking with the story for so long. I began this nearly two years ago (if not more) and my writing style has changed quite a bit from the first chapter. Revisting and revising the earlier chapters is my next goal for this story, even though it is complete.

THANK YOU! EVERYONE!

And once again, this story is dedicated to my best friend and master, Ashwee-sama... Who didn't even bother reading the damn story ..


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